From Your Memory
by RavenFollower13
Summary: After an accident, Gaz wakes up in the hospital to find she remembers nothing of the past three months. Not too bad; if it weren't for the fact that there was an obvious secret about those three months that everyone around her wasn't telling her.
1. Wake Up Call

For those who followed me here from my "My Hostage Not Yours" saga; thanks.

The name of this story (and the basic scenario) was inspired by:

**"I'm not the same kid  
From your memory  
Well now I can fend for myself"**  
**-Ignorance by Paramore**

Originally, I planned on writing this story in all Gaz's POV, but it has been changed, because ONLY Gaz's point of view was far too confusing and not actiony enough. And I also had no idea how to start this, but it did need to start with the hospital.

But UGH! I cannot tell you how many times I've changed and altered this chapter. Too many directions to take starting this off, but, obviously, this is my final cut. You all will have to tell me whether you liked it or not. First part is not Gaz, in any case. Second part is.

**Important Note:** Now that Skool-ugh, _School_ (too much IZ writing) has started and I've seen how ridiculously hard my classes are going to be, I'm going to need to get my shit together. Meaning, weekly updates now, not every other day. Expect them** Fridays**.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 1  
"Wake Up Call"**

She couldn't . . . I mean, that imagery of her just laying there, when I hadn't . . .!

. . . She _needed_ me and I was too busy being angry with her to give a damn and check in, to make sure she was alright! What kind of . . . What did that make me then? I was a failure, because I hadn't protected her. I hadn't even been the one to _find_ her!

If only I knew _what_ she needed protection from . . . If I hadn't failed at figuring out . . . Ugh, what was going on right now? She could be dying and I wouldn't know, because I was in this other room, because I wasn't allowed inside! One person for comatose patients . . . Like I cared about rules! But getting kicked out would hardly gain me entrance into the room. Quite the opposite in fact.

So, unable to control myself any longer, I began calling someone who was already inside.

They picked up second ring.

"_Hello_?"

"How's she doing?" I demanded, glaring out the visitors window, eying the rest of the waiting patients with disdain.

A sigh, "_Not awake yet, if that's what you're asking_."

"No," I growled. Then I calmed myself, releasing a breath through gritted teeth. Losing my temper would get me nowhere. "I asked of how her _condition_ was, not her awareness."

A pause. I picked up the slight murmuring from a question on his end, then a reply. "_She's been stabilized since yesterday. But they're still not sure when she's going to wake up._"

I sighed. "This is the fault of me. I have failed."

"_As much as I would **love** to agree with you and make you feel like crap any other day, it actually **isn't** your fault._"

"Oh?" I huffed, irritated. "Then whose is it?"

"_Well I don't know! Only she does! And we've got to wait till she wakes up to know **that**_."

My hand curled into a fist against my leg, glaring at the floor as if it was the very bane of my pitiful existence. My growl was low, too quiet to be heard besides the person who I spoke with on the phone, but filled with undisguised menace. "_When I find out who hurt her_-!"

"_Yeah, I know. We're on the same page on this, for once, okay? Whoever it is, they're dead. If it really is someone, and she didn't just fall on accid-._"

My growl silenced him, my complete disagreement with how he thought things had played out making him uncomfortable by the way he cleared his throat and continued.

"_But yeah, we'll get whoever it is one way or another._"

My fist tightened.

There was no doubt about _that_.

* * *

I want you to imagine closing your eyes and going to bed at night.

. . .

Did you do it?

Good.

Now I want you to picture yourself waking up in a hospital instead of where you fell asleep.

. . .

Did you do that too?

Well good. Now we can be on the same page here.

Any time anyone thinks of amnesia, in general, the thought 'Oh, I would remember _that_' comes up at some point. Most of us are under the impression that some of our memories, like our love-life (if one exists) and important, possibly scarring things that happened will be imprinted on your brain after you wake up. There's also that ever-present idea that you will consistently receive extremely detailed, helpful flashbacks that will enlighten you and allow you to remember all, if not most of what you've forgotten shortly after starting helpful therapy. You think that it'll be annoying, like forgetting your keys or the password to your phone, but it won't be too big of a problem. Easy, right?

Well then allow me to burst your ignorant little bubbles; you're _wrong_.

You wake up to your own living Hell. You lose yourself, or at least, what others remember you as. Not that I've ever really cared about what other people think of me, but it's unbelievably frustrating to have those around you expect you to react one way when you're attitude is completely different and results in an argument every other minute. It's surprising how much a person changes over three months. It's especially frustrating to deal with people around you, especially when you didn't like to be around them much to begin with, since now they want to be attached to you like glue.

You see after losing your memories, people feel like you're going to forget them, even if you never forgot them in the first place. Now I'll admit, I thought (and still think) it was rather amusing how much your thoughts effect people around you. Well, I guess not so much as your _thoughts_ as how you _perceive_ things.

Well.

Why don't I just start the story, then?

My point of recollection started with, wouldn't you guess, the hospital.

Now I _know_ what you all are thinking; wait back-up, how did this happen? You want some sort of explanation leading up into whether I was attacked, or clumsy and hit my head, or whatever, right? Yeah . . . that's too bad for you then.

Because I have about as much of a clue as to what happened as you do.

Apparently, I had suffered from a coma (which explained the rather extensive amount of technology and monitors around me) due to some sort of blunt-force trauma. Now, in case you were wondering, I was not informed of this at the time; that information was on my wrist-band thing. You know, that little white, laminated thing they tape to patients wrists so as not to get them mixed up? Come on, everyone knows that's the reason. But, at least it was coming in handy for me at the moment, explaining _why_ I was here, at least. I held it up, wondering _how_ exactly this had happened. Last I remembered, it was so hot from the humid summer air that I had given up and gone to bed early. So waking up _here_ wasn't exactly what I'd expected.

Had there been some type of accident at home finally?

Seriously, with my dad -the infamous Professor Membrane- always working on inventions that could end the world with the slightest slip of a finger, it wouldn't be surprising if something had gone wrong that had ended me up here. I looked around the annoyingly white, sterile room and wondered if Dib had gotten hurt too. One might think that I should be scared to know I'd apparently been in a coma, but really; what could I do about it now?

I heard someone's voice coming towards my room and decided to wait for them instead of just going back to sleep. I tried to identify them through the walls but it didn't work. I had excellent hearing, but I didn't have _super-powers_.

The door opened. Apparently, they were on the phone, but they nearly dropped it upon seeing me, awake, eying them.

I waved, casually, resisting a smirk at his expression. "Hey, Dib."

Dib is my idiot of a brother; a Paranormal Investigator. He's a year older then me but I'm a thousand times smarter then he is any day of the week (speaking of which, I wondered what day it was . . .). My dad hates Dib's 'hobby' (Dib calls it a way of life; honestly, the stupidity I live with in my house-hold) and they argue a lot about it, but it's pretty clear neither of them will ever budge about that subject. Although, to credit Dib, my brother _has_ been more efficient about his studies lately. He doesn't just run around recklessly anymore, he plans . . . sometimes.

Anyways.

Dib fumbled with his phone, stuttering, "Y-Yeah, I'll call you back later. She's up."

I heard a loud shout of surprise, but Dib didn't seem to notice, as he just snapped it shot, bolting over to the side of my bed.

I eyed the phone, wondering exactly who he was talking to. "Who was-?"

"GAZ!"

In case it didn't catch on, that is, indeed, my name. Gazlene Membrane, actually, but I prefer Gaz. Only my father can call me (or my brother, actually) by my full name and get away with it without injury. I'm 16, in case any of you were wondering and a Junior in Hi-Skool. Not that my education particularly matters but, eh, you never know.

Dib's shout made me want to smack him, as I noticed my head was actually killing me, and his yell had now aggravated it. But, unfortunately, I found the IV in my hand prevented me from doing so, without injuring myself. To me, self-preservation wins above all other urges, as I'm a strong believer that people should be able to control and take care of themselves; anyone who can't is just weak and is not worth anyone's (and certainly not worth _my_) time. And anyways, I was soon restrained in a rather unexpected bear-hug from Dib, making me freeze up at the rather bold move.

"Gaz, you're awake! How are you feeling? Are you okay? What hap-?"

I feel I should let you all know; I do _not_, under any circumstances, like being touched.

"Dib," I growled, severely, interrupting his obnoxious stream of questions that I couldn't have answered anyways, since he didn't give me time to. From my (I guess you could call it) 'vantage' point, I could feel him tense slightly at my tone. "You have _two seconds_ to release me before I maim you. Let go. _Now_."

He did as I said, though looked a little confused while doing so. Which made _me_ confused. Had he really expected any other type of reaction from me? Dib knew better then anyone I just did not like being touched. It wasn't so much the affectionate aspect of touching as it was that I just didn't like my personal bubble invaded. So why did he look so surprised?

I decided to demand an explanation.

"What's gotten into you?" I snapped, sitting up a little, rubbing the last of the sleep from my eyes. "Geez, I'm fine, Dib. You don't need to get all touchy-feely just because I was in a coma."

"How did you know that you were-?"

I held up the wrist with the band around it, shaking it for emphasis. "Not too hard to figure out. So what happened? Dad finally blow the house up?" Then my smile evaporated, a brow rising. "Wait, he's not hurt or anything is he? Is everyone okay?" Then I glared at him, ignoring the fact I was doing the same rapid-fire questioning he had just done to me that I had mentally scolded him for. "And why aren't _you_ hurt?"

Dib gave me confused look. "You mean you don't remember?"

My brow rose. "Should I? I mean, I was asleep, so-."

"Gaz," Dib interrupted, sitting on the edge of my bed. I leaned back into my pillows a bit, not only to gain some personal space, but because the serious look in his eye was unnerving. "I found you in Dad's lab, unconscious. And Dad was at work all day and couldn't have let you in. You snuck down there by yourself."

I glared at him. "That's not funny, Dib. And it's also ridiculous. I went to bed. I didn't go downstairs."

"Yes, you did!" He insisted, continuing to look at me funny. "I saw the security footage in the hallways."

"When did we put security footage in our house?" I replied back. I racked through my brain, trying to remember when that was, or if we'd just always had it. It was also possible I just hadn't noticed when it was installed, since my dad probably did it himself. Or maybe Dib had done it, since I would definitely remember if some stranger had been at my home installing things. Dib and Dad? Not so much.

"Last month." Dib placed his hand on my forehead, "Gaz, are you feeling okay?"

I smacked his hand off, "I'm fine. How long have I been out, anyways?"

"Just a few days, almost a week," He assured me, smiling. "But don't worry about Skool work or anything. Dad took care of that. It's all been excused."

"Skool work?" I snorted, giving him a look of disbelief. "I thought you said it's only been a few days."

"Yeah," Dib said slowly, eying me. "But Skool still gives works, like, daily. You should know that by _now_, Gaz.'

My brows furrowed. "But it's . . . wait a second, open that window."

Dib eyed me like I was insane, but did so, throwing it open and turning to look at me, probably to guage my reaction.

Snow fell outside the window, gently, piling up on top of roofs. I guessed we were on the second or third story of the hospital, as we were a ways up above the ground. All around people were in coats and winter things and Christmas decorations. Yes, some people were wearing decorations. However that was hardly my concern at the moment.

Because this was impossible.

"No," I shook my head, my hand going to my forehead as I tried to make this make sense. "No, it's still August, it can't be snowing."

I could feel Dib's eyes on me, burning onto my confused and frustrated face. Dib must've been wrong. It was just that simple. I hadn't been out for a few days, I'd been out for a few_ months_. Yeah, that was the only explanation.

Dib's wary expression said otherwise.

"Gaz," He said, slowly again. "What's my name?"

"Idiot!" I snapped, shaking my head. "And Dad's name is Professor Membrane, before you ask me. But you're wrong, Dib, you must've meant months. _Months_, not weeks, right?" He stared at me. "_Right_?"

Dib's hand shot to his pocket, hitting redial. I watched him, indifferently, but irritation was filtering in on my expression. One might have expected me to freak out or panic instead. Let me tell you this now; if there is anything I absolutely refuse to do, it's panic. Panicking wasn't going to get me anywhere. I was going to let Dib and everyone around me freak out _for_ me.

But that was besides the point. How could three months, if it was in fact December, just go missing? I wasn't a forgetful person; I should _know_ this. This was _wrong_. For one of the first times in my life, a slightly frustrated fear began welling up in my chest as I tried to crunch three months into a few days, desperately trying to make the math work.

This was just . . . impossible!

"Don't come up." He instructed, looking at me as I tried to count the lost time on my fingers and let out an irritated scream of frustration when it didn't work. Dib flinched and I heard shouting on the other end of the phone as he headed towards the door, slowly. "No, she's fine. Physically, at least."

"Dib, who the hell are you talking to?" I shouted at him, angry he was acting so casually when he was screwing with my head. The little jerk! I was going to kill him! "Is that Dad?"

"Yeah, Gaz." Dib replied, looking out at the window, possibly debating whether he should close it or not. "It's Dad."

My eyes narrowed. "Well where is he?"

"Um, I'm not sure," He said, turning back to the person on the phone. Or, well, my Dad. "No, she's fine, Dad. She just . . . _doesn't remember anything since August._"

I still heard him, even if he had muttered it.

"I remember perfectly fine!" I shrieked at him, my hand slamming on the table beside the bed. "_You_ got the time wrong. Months, not days!**_ Months_**!"

"I'm gonna get a doctor, Gaz," Dib replied. "Just try to calm down, okay?"

"_You_ calm down," I retorted, crossing my arms across my chest and scowling out at the window. "_Stupid little paranormal idiot_ . . ."

The door shut behind Dib and I heard him speaking quickly to my father over the phone through the walls. I rolled over in bed, growling curses to myself as I blamed Dib for this. Even if deep down, I really did know this wasn't his fault, there was always the possibility that it was, since I didn't remember anything. Such was the positive thought that kept me from screaming at the doctors when they finally showed up, my brother (phone-less now) standing nervously at the door.

During the explosion (apparently whatever I had done, that I couldn't remember, had involved flames of some sort, which was good news to me; at least I hadn't just fallen like an idiot and hit my head in the dark), some debris from something or another had hit me in the head, in just the right place of my brain to screw with my memory and hard enough to give me a concussion, after which I'd slipped into a coma. The doctors told me I was incredibly lucky to be alive. I really couldn't give a damn. I just wanted my head fixed.

Which, apparently, could not be done.

That was _definitely_ the wrong thing to say to me at the time.

In the end, Dib had been forced to restrain me from further abuse of the medical professional, and shortly after my belongings were returned to me and I was released from the hospital. I tend to have a bit of a temper when something happens that I, or someone else I'd make do it, cannot fix. As I'm sure any reader has guessed by now, I am _not_ a weak person. Nor am is the idea of dependency appealing to me. So the fact I was probably going to have to rely on other people for information to fill me in on something I _already should have known_ was positively the _worst_ thing I felt could've been happening to me.

To explain that absolute suckiness of the situation I'd woken up to, completely unprepared, would take an unimaginable amount of time. Throughout this, I will admit, because of the sheer disbelief of waking up from a coma with amnesia, I couldn't help but expect this all to be some elaborate joke from Dib. On the drive home, I kept glaring at him, expecting him to burst out laughing and inform me I was right, that I had been unconscious for months thanks to an accident of Dad's, and he had just woken up before me.

But I could read people with just a glance, and I knew Dib like the back of my hand. By the contemplative, worried expression on his face as he too continued to shoot glances at me while he drove (which he was old enough to now, being 17) and the strangle-worthy grip he had on the wheel, I knew he wasn't lying. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. _Refused_ to, really.

The very idea I, Gaz, the Terror of Humanity, the Infamous Membrane Daughter, all the many names people called to grace my frightening presence and refer to me with the hope I wouldn't realize who they were speaking about, had been subjected to dependency was so degrading, I wanted to punch something. Preferably whoevers fault it was that this had happened, even if it was only just inadvertently. _Someone_ needed to pay. I just needed to find out _who_.

While at the time I didn't know it, that single, simple thought became the entire basis of discovering a very, _very_ screwed up history that would ultimately send my world spiraling into catastrophe, confusion, and sheer unadulterated loathing of a person I never thought would have, or ever have, anything to do with my life.

And so began my adventure in discovering my own secrets.

* * *

Not bad for a first chapter, right?

Hopefully . . .

. . .

. . .

Alright, I know it's horrible! Try not to hate this! It gets better, I promise!

You just need to give me a few chapters, for the benefit of the doubt!

So, if any of you are still reading by then-.

Till next time!


	2. Welcome Home?

Chapter 2! Oh so much better then the start chapter, hopefully.

The kicker of inspiration that started off THIS chapter was:

**"No matter how many breaths that you took  
You still couldn't breathe . . .  
No matter how many nights that you'd lie wide awake  
To the sound of the poison rain  
Where did you go?  
Where did you go?  
Where did you go . . .?"  
-Hurricane by 30 Seconds to Mars**

So, as I said, Friday updates because my weeks are KILLER. -_-

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 2  
"Welcome Home?"**

My head was pressed up against the icy window, boredly, staring mindlessly out at the rain outside.

The weather had warmed up enough to melt the snow, hence, the pouring outside my house. I was debating on running outside to savor in what I felt like I had missed, or continue to watch it. To be honest, running outside was starting to look more appealing by the minute, not simply for my pleasure, but if I caught a cold, that meant no Skool. Meaning I wouldn't have to deal with all those damned, idiotic people looking at me like I was some kind of enigma. Which I was, but that didn't mean I wanted to be stared at!

But I sighed, deciding against it. I was no coward. I wasn't going to back out of this.

Dib, of course, had been on the phone with my father all day, speaking in the other room with him. I ignored it, for the most part, as I would've only heard a one-sided conversation and Dib didn't seem to be talking much anyways. The only time I heard him speak was to explain on what the doctors had said about my brain.

Absent-mindedly (with no pun intended), I reached up to place two fingers on my temple, wondering why my brain had decided to betray me so unjustly. It was annoying; I wanted to know why I had gone downstairs. I'd spent the better part of the first hour of being home tearing apart my room for some kind of clue, but all I found was homework I had half-finished (in my hand writing, unfortunately, confirming the fact I had indeed already begun Skool and it was not just Dib messing with me) and a few notes on medications I didn't recognize. At first, this had made me suspicious, until I found a half-assed rough draft (most likely for science, though it didn't have any mention of the class on the paper; probably because I never counted on losing my memory) about them and their uses. I tossed the papers in a folder, in case I needed to use them for later reference in my classes.

But despite my extremely thorough efforts, I came up empty handed. Nothing that triggered any helpful flashbacks, no strange objects that gave me any insight to anything. The really annoying thing though was that I would probably not care if I couldn't remember a few months. If it weren't for the fact I still didn't know why I had gone down into the lab, I would be perfectly content.

. . .

I really hated that.

"What do you_ mean_ you're not coming?"

Dib's suddenly hushed hiss caught my attention, my brow rising as my head turned towards the kitchen, where I could see his shadow pacing back and forth impatiently and then still in his irritation. I rolled my eyes shortly after though, looking back out the window.

My father, as I previously mentioned, is a very absent figure in mine and Dib's life. I didn't really mind, as I preferred my space, and Dib was more then enough of a presence (hovering nuisance) to keep me company. Plus, my father was a busy man, something I didn't begrudge him for. Although I will admit he seemed to have his priorities backwards in what society considered appropriate (meaning he put his job before his kids, instead of the situation being vise-versa). So I didn't know why Dib expected my dad to come home just because of my new dilemma. As far as my dad was concerned, he probably just thought I was being forgetful.

"You can't just-!" Dib cut off as my father interrupted him. I listened to my brother let out an aggravated noise. "You know what, never mind. I don't care whether you show up or not. I just thought you'd consider that _she_ might!"

I heard him slam the phone back onto the receiver and the scratch of the chair as he slumped down into it, sighing. I leaned back, to peer into the kitchen. Dib's back was mostly to me, his elbows up the table, pinching the bridge of his nose. I made a slight face of pity, a small portion of my heart going out to my brother for that moment.

While _I_ understood my father's rather flaky attitude, Dib and my dad had never gotten along. When Dib was a child, it had been an easier relationship, as my father had always assumed Dib would grow out of this 'hobby'. But now that he was 17 and my father was trying to convince Dib to 'grow up' and become 'find a _real_ career'. All in all, they had stopped getting along by the time Dib was 15, but it was clear they still had hope the other would eventually come around.

A fact which was made even more obvious by Dib's expectations that my father would come home.

I shook my head, pressing my forehead back up against the cool glass. The sooner Dib figured out that we weren't Dad's priority, the better things would be around the house.

"Gaz?"

I sighed at his call, but responded. "Yeah, Dib?"

"What do you feel like for dinner tonight? Does Bloaty's sound good?"

_Really?_ My brow rose. _**That** was what he wanted to ask me after an argument with Dad?_

Now mind you, I wasn't unhappy that Dib didn't want to have some deep, meaningful talk about my opinions on Dad (one he really should've known by now) but this was a bit out of character for him. But I shrugged it off, turning my attention back towards the rain.

"Yeah," I replied, "Sounds fine."

Normally, I spent most of my time locked up in my room. But I was so sick of investigating in there that I just needed to be away from it for a little while. I was so so sick of wondering, I just needed to do something mindless. And, last I remembered, I didn't have any new games to play. Nothing was ever good on TV anymore, so these were the reasons that had led me up to just sitting here, staring out at the rain.

"Okay," Dib replied, and I heard him get up to call and order in.

Bot Dib and myself could drive and we had separate means of transportation. Yes, we had _two_ cars. Dib's car, however, he'd rigged up with enough weaponry and defense systems worthy of a sci-fi movie. His was black and sleek, something he took extremely matriculate care of. Mine, on the other hand, was a dark magenta color, so dark it was almost black as well. They were gifts from my dad, each received when we'd turned sixteen. I think this is where Dib found new hope, since we were both stunned when he remembered our birthdays. But I had a feeling one of his workers that handled his 'personal life' had told him and his response was initial surprise before he had carelessly just ordered a car for us, that would suit our preferences.

But that was Dib for you. He had to try and find hope in everyone and everything.

I groaned as a headache began to come on, turning my head so a whole side of my face was pressing against the cool, soothing glass, my eyes closing. The doctors had warned me I might get these. Frequently.

. . . Did I mention how much I was hating my life right now?

Eventually, when the ice of the window faded from my natural body heat warming it up, I stood, with an aggravated grunt. Dib came into the room, pulling his coat on, eying me with concern as I massaged my temples.

"Hey," He commented, placing his hand lightly on my arm. A rather dangerous move, but it seemed his concern overruled his natural terror of me. "You want me to just make them deliver it? You shouldn't be home alone."

"I'm just going to go take a nap," I insisted, eying his hand purposefully.

He removed it, making a face, contemplating his next move.

I rolled my eyes. "Go, Dib. I'll be fine, really."

The reluctance was still clear on his face, but he sighed, nodding, and pulling the hood over his head. "Alright. Call me if you need anything, okay? I'll be back in 20 minutes, tops."

"Alright, sheesh, now shoo!" I ordered, heading towards the stairs and shooting him a look. "Go get me my Bloaty's."

Dib smiled at me. This uncanny ability my brother (and _only_ my brother) had was finding most of my backtalk and nasty remarks endearing. I had no idea why, and still do not know to this day, but I guess it's just a family thing. Or a skill he's learned from living with me for this long. Either way, it was still kind of weird but oh well.

I heard the door shut behind him, the dulled noise of raise momentarily filling the house when the door opened before it was closed again. Still rubbing my temples, I trudged up the stairs into my room, shutting the door behind me. I left the curtains open, as I had always liked looking at the rain. My room was a bit disorganized, as I had thrown some things on the floor in my frustration, but they went ignored, for the moment. I made note to clean then up later but right now, I was just too tired to give a damn. For a little while, I watched the rain. But eventually, sleep did start creeping upon me, so I turned my back to my window, my eyes beginning to droop closed.

I wasn't sure how long I was out when thunder woke me up again, accompanied by a flash of lightning.

My eyes snapped open, into my room. A glance at my clock informed me I'd only been asleep for about five minutes (_great_ . . .). I groaned in irritation, but at least my head felt a little better. My still dreary eyes glanced habitually around my room, to ensure nothing besides the thunder had woken me and that nothing else was amiss. My eyes roamed to the floor, the square imprint of the windows shadow and some other figure standing in my window, staining the carpet with the image. I was completely tired and my lids were drooping, begging me to close them and I allowed it.

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . Wait a second . . .!

My eyes snapped open as I sat up, abruptly, spinning around on my bed with alarm and fury. A wave of vertigo hit me for my troubles, but I stared out my window, in complete disbelief a moment before my eyes narrowed in confusion, darting around. Then I humphed, as it clearly wasn't a person in my window. Just the damned tree that had always been there.

I hissed, my eyes darting back to the floor. Indeed, the tree branches were the shadows I had seen, not a person. They didn't look particularly humanoid, but then again, neither had the shadow, now that I thought about it. My hand went to my eyes, covering them as I sighed. My headache must have just been making me see things. A storm outside and sleep deprivation probably weren't helping my paranoid imagination either.

With a groan, I just rolled back onto my bed, falling asleep all over again.

"Stupid storm," I muttered, drifting back into sleep.

* * *

A day passed.

Apparently, for once, I was wrong about my father's normally vacant presence.

He showed up early Sunday morning, the gentle knock on my door waking me. At first I had thought it was Dib and was prepared to scold him for waking me until he called through the door.

"Daughter?" Another knock. "Are you awake?"

My brow rose at the unexpectedness, but I sat up, having changed into my pajamas after eating last night (before going right back to sleep, which I was instructed to get a lot of) and pulling the covers off as I got up, opening the door.

"Dad?" I said, blinking the sleep from my eyes. "What are you doing home?"

"Daughter!"

To say I was completely stunned by what happened next would be a gross understatement, but I've got no better way of describing it.

My father _hugged_ me . . . He _hugged_ me . . . Was I hallucinating or something?

But no, I was continuously engulfed in a rather tight, affectionate enough hug that it could pass for one of the one's Dib had forced upon me before. So I stood there, now fully awake and completely baffled.

Just . . . Exactly how much had changed in these past three months that had got me to the point where my father actually_ listened_ to my brother, came home when I wasn't at my best, just to _hug_ me? If my hands were free, I would've smacked myself to ensure I wasn't still asleep and having some sick dream that made no sense.

Eventually, my father let go, seeming to eye me warmly. Although you could never tell really, considering 95% of his face was covered, but I just got that kind of vibe from him.

"Eh," I eyed him, trying to keep the silent 'what the hell has gotten into you?' off my face. "Hi Dad."

He placed his hands on my shoulders, peering at me. "How are you, daughter? Have I woken you? Do you need to rest more?"

Alright seriously. Where were the cameras? Or had I just been switched into another dimension thanks to something stupid Dib had done?

Honestly, with what had happened already, I wouldn't have been particularly surprised.

"I'm fine, Dad, really," I insisted, still confused, brushing his hands away. Even with my father, who never before had hugged me, I still did not like being touched.

No exceptions.

"Oh good," He said, sounding pleased. Then he patted me on the head, much more like the touch I was used to from him; like I was a pet more then his kid. The familiarity of this action made me feel less uneasy and I offered him a small smile.

"I thought you weren't coming home," I said, my head angling slightly in my confusion (something I really was feeling a lot of lately; I had a feeling I was going to have to get used to it) as I remembered the rather heated phone-conversation with him and Dib yesterday.

My father chuckled. "Of course I came home! My daughter has lost her brain and I must help her find it. Although," his voice lowered, glancing around conspiratorially. "I will admit, I always thought it would be your brother who I'd be doing this to."

I couldn't help but snicker, but my normal, cautious paranoia was coming over me again. Why was my father, the infamous Professor Membrane, so damned nice? He never made jokes! He said jokes were bad for your health! So why was he cracking them now?

. . . I decided I must have hit my head harder then I thought.

His hand was suddenly under my chin, tiling my face up as he peered at it the way only a scientist could. Now _this_ was more like it. But if he kept switching between the usual Membrane-mode and Father-mode, I was going to get a headache.

"Ah, daughter," He scolded, lightly. "You still have signs of sleep deprivation. Go back to bed and I will wake you again when you've gotten enough sleep."

I was completely beyond comprehension of understanding my father, at least for the moment and just decided that going back to bed would probably be the best plan I could have at the moment. So I just nodded, turned, and went back to sleep.

Because maybe then I would wake up and things would make more sense.

Unfortunately, a few hours later, when I woke on my own this time, it did not.

My father was still home, Dib eying him somehow suspiciously. Oh good. So it wasn't just me who thought our father's presence was strange. Upon my entering the kitchen, still unnoticed by my dad, as he was making toast I think, Dib shot me a look of complete disbelief.

He jerked a thumb towards our dad, mouthing, 'Why is he here?'

I shrugged, making sure to let him know I had absolutely no idea by my facial expression. He frowned, scooping a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and eying the normally absent man, probably going through a list of possibilities in his head. I decided I might as well make my presence known.

"Morning." I commented dryly, getting a bowl down for myself.

Immediately my father turned, beaming at me. "Daughter, have you rested well?"

Still trying to play it cool, I nodded. pouring some cereal into my bowl and retrieving the milk. "Yup."

"Good," he praised, turning back to his work.

As I sat down again, Dib's eyes were wide. The disbelief was clear to both of us at his actions. Our dad, as horrible as this sounds,_ never_ asked us about our well-being.

Dib cleared his throat, "Uh, Dad?"

He turned to look at him over his shoulder, inquiringly. "Yes, son?"

"Are you . . . feeling okay?" Dib pressed, peering at him, probably hoping to see some form of illness or another.

Membrane laughed. "Of course! I am always healthy! Now eat your breakfast or _you_ won't be. After all, breakfast is one of the most important meals of the day!"

I wanted to gag.

By the look on Dib's face, he probably did too.

Seriously; What the_ hell_?

Dib looked to me, motioning with his hands for me to try. I just shook my head.

"Just leave it," I muttered, too quiet for our dad to hear. My brother seemed disappointed, but nodded, understanding I probably wouldn't have much success either.

"So, Dib-!"

We both nearly choked on our cereal.

Membrane stared at us, alarmed, but that was beside the point. I coughed, clearing my throat as Dib pounded his chest. Our eyes locked, shock filling them. Dad _never_ called us by our names. In fact they were so unused in his mouth we were pretty sure he didn't even know them. Geez, what _other_ completely insane thing was going to happen today?

"Are you two alright?" He questioned, when we'd composed ourselves.

Dib cleared his throat, nodding, looking down at his cereal. "Yeah, we're fine. Just, um . . . um-."

"There was a fly," I interrupted, shooting him a look that said, '_Smooth._'

Dib returned with a grateful one before looking at our still confused, but getting over it father. "So, what were you saying, Dad?"

"Oh, yes!" Proffessor Membrane seemed pleased at getting back on subject. "How have you and your little foreign friend been getting along, Dib? You two are still chummy with one another, correct?"

My brow rose. Alright now this was just getting ridiculous.

First my dad comes home when I'm sick, then he starts acting all fatherly and making sure we're healthy, then he remembers Dib's name and now he's asking about his social life? Did he have some kind of mid-life crisis recently that I should know about? Then I scowled, glaring at my cereal as a new thought came up.

Or was this just _another_ thing I couldn't remember the reason or details about?

Meanwhile, Dib was giving our father an odd look. "Uh, me and Zim aren't friends, Dad. We're arch-enemies."

My father chuckled, ruffling his hair, which actually wasn't something that was _entirely_ uncommon (phew). "Of course, of course. So should I expect your friend to be coming over anytime soon?"

Dib smacked his hand to his forehead. "No, Dad. Definitely not."

"Oh. I see. You two are fighting? Is it over a girl, son? Because I remember when _I_ was your age-."

"Dad!" Dib shouted, face flushing red. It was evident that neither of us were used to this kind of attention from my father, especially with how easily he misunderstood things and then insisted upon them. "We're not friends! We've never_ been_ friends. We hate each other."

This was a true fact. Zim and Dib had never liked each other.

Zim, in case any of you are wondering, is an alien. A well-known fact between my brother and I, but there's a rather large difference of opinions of the subject; Dib is completely obsessed with outing him and I, personally, couldn't care less about it. Sure, I've ended up in situations with the guy when we were kids, where I ended up saving the world (for lack of anything better to do), but I'd never really cared about what happened afterwords. Zim and I had never had any problems with each other, though, like he and Dib had. In fact, I'm pretty sure Zim just detests me on principal, since I am Dib's sister, after all. And I dislike everyone in general, outside of my immediate family (though sometimes them, too, depending on what kind of mood I'm in), so we rarely have communication with one another.

Unless I'm trying to bother Dib. Then I'll wave at Zim, who never failed to give me a confused look back, until recently.

Or, at least, what my _mind_ told me was recently and what was, in fact, actually over three months ago.

It was one of few conversations he and I have ever had and the only one without Dib being there. And all it consisted of was:

"Why do you wave at Zim?"

and my response of-.

"Because it bugs Dib."

And that was literally it. Because then Zim had nodded in awed enlightenment, and proceeded to wave at me as much as possible after that, whenever Dib was around, just to get a kick out of Dib screaming at him, demanding an explanation as to why he was waving at me. Admittedly, it was kind of funny, but aside from that, I had very rare encounters with Zim. And always it was because I was with Dib at the wrong place at the wrong time, or had to go rescue him because he'd gotten stuck somewhere again and Zim was going to blah blah blah blah blah.

Dib and Zim's dynamic, however, as Dib mentioned, are hated rivals, each trying to one-up the other in Zim's constant attempts to take over the world (or, at least, they used to; lately Dib suspected Zim was now just making it his mission in life to piss him off) and Dib's endless (fruitless) efforts to destory those plan of world-domination, those two had been fighting since Middle-Skool. And the whole Skool knew it and had just grown accostomed to them jumping up on tables and yelling psychotic-sounding words at one another. They were so immune, I believe, that everyone pretty much just ignored those two when they were in an even generally close vacinity to one another because all they ever did was fight.

It was kind of annoying, but I, too, had just gotten used to it.

"Oh you poor, demented thing you," Proffessor Membrane chuckled, patting him on the head. Well, at least he was sounding a bit more like himself, even if he was being unaturally affectionate. He interrupted Dib's rant about Zim being an alien that I had tuned out, automatically. "Don't worry, son! I'm sure I'll cure your insanity in no time at all!"

Dib groaned, his head falling onto the table. But he gave my father a thumbs up, nonetheless. "Sure, Dad. Thanks."

I snickered, hiding my amusement in my hand. However, Dib heard, looking up to shoot me an irritated look before just laying his head back down on the table. I hardly minded however, getting up, disposing of the breakfast I wasn't interested in anymore. I had things to do (and also really just wanted to get away from my temporarily insane father) that needed my attention.

Tomorrow was Monday.

And Monday meant only one thing: Skool.

* * *

So, if you haven't noticed, I'm just setting up the stage for you all, every bit as much as my characters as the IZ cast, to perform on. And I see how you perform in the form of reviews, though, I refuse to beg for them as that is pressuring and I don't do that kind of stuff.

YES, I _know_ you are all upset with me.

Two chapters and Gaz has only MENTIONED Zim, in a brief, two paragraph description of their near non-existent relations to one another that could barely count as aquaintences, let alone something else? Unacceptable!

BUT YOU ALL SHOULD NOW TO TRUST ME BY NOW (at least, my following-readers; you all how are just discovering my stories of insanity - feel free to mistrust me as you like BUT YOU WILL REGRET IT *evil grin*) AND NOW THAT YOUR SUSPENSE WILL BE WELL WORTH THE WAIT.

Also, Skool is tomorrow (next chapter).

So, who goes to Skool with Dib and Gaz *evil, suggestive smirk*?

That's right.

Our favorite green Irken.

But yes, mind you, as I said, these past chapters, this one, the next one and MAYBE the one after are setting up the playing field. After I've created the arena the story begins to unravel and battle itself into the badassness I am so vigorously aiming for.

Cross your fingers with me in the hope I don't disappoint, because I know I am TERRIFIED right now!

Till the next chapter!


	3. My Technical First Day of Skool

Aha, more pieces to the chess board.

Let's make things a bit more intricate, shall we?

I'll match your Zim. And raise you a unfulfilled expectation of his arrival!

I was laughing my ass off while posting this, because msn has headlines that said, "Are Aliens Sending Us Messages via Black Hole? - Extra Terrestrial Communication: Some scientists convinced that black holes are a way for alien life-forms to communicate with us" and watched this video that just reminded me of Dib so much I just could not stop laughing because it reminded me of "Mysterious Mysteries". Especially since like MM, this little vidlet had the suave, semi-old host (in this case, Morgan Freeman). And then it went on to talk about parallel universes and the largest stars ever discovered and now I'm just going to stop talking, even though it WAS really interesting.

Also, a message from a friend of mine (that I am UNWILLINGLY posting, because she has been bugging me for a freaking week, since my last post -_-): "Bitches, I made Echo a trailer for the ORIGINAL idea for this (cuz your guyses "favorite" author changed the entire plot and only told me AFTER I had posted the damned things!) and demand that she let you know, since I worked so freaking hard on it.

Sincerely,

Bee."

I called her Bumblebee, cause she buzzes like an annoying fly in my ear. -_-

**To see the trailer, go to my profile and find the link on it.**

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 3  
"My Technical First Day of Skool"**

I really, _really_ did not want to be here.

And 'here', just so you all know, is in front of the Skool, in my new uniform (or old, I guess, depending on how you looked at it), with all eyes on me and all mouths whispering about me. It was incredibly annoying but I didn't have the kind of energy to walk around and beat everyone up right now.

'Normally' my uniform was (apparently) a light blue skirt, a white shirt and a red jacket, which buttoned at the waist and had tied together at the neck with black strings. There were also socks, that went up your thigh (to keep your legs warm) and my normal black combat boots. But, considering the weather, I now had black, long coat over my red jacket.

Having eyed Dib's outfit this morning, I was already aware of the differences between the boys uniforms and the girls. Of course, they wore pants instead of skirts, black dress ones. The jackets on them did not cinch at the waist, they draped to their pockets. Their jackets, too, were red, just without the string ties. They had to wear normal, solid black ties.

According to Dib, we'd been notified about the new dress policy (after so many dress-code violations last year) about a week before the end of August. Meaning my memory had blanked out before that, which was rather annoying, since I would've liked to have known that I _couldn't_ just wear whatever I wanted. Around the yard, some of the girls looked cold but I wasn't. I _loved_ cold weather, it was the warm weather I hated.

It sucked to know I'd missed 2 months of the cold already. Or, at least, I didn't remember enjoying it.

As I walked to the office with Dib, to get my schedule (I felt like the new kid, even though I'd been going here for months), I decided I really hated my life at the moment. The only good thing about today was that I didn't have to do P.E., thanks to extra injuries in my accident that I had sustained on my back. Two long, burn-looking marks slanting to form an almost 'V'-like formation, except they stopped a few inches before connecting. The doctors figured I'd skidded on my back after I'd been knocked over (as Dib had, after all, found me on the floor) by the explosion and that it would take a while, but the marks would probably disappear eventually.

I growled upon noticing yet another person staring at me, shooting them a venomous look that they squealed at, turning away and facing the wall at once. My reputation from childhood had followed me all the way to Hi-Skool, which was just fine with me. I hardly had to glare at people now before they cowered from my very presence, exactly the way I liked it.

But it seemed people were gaining courage with numbers.

It was hard to believe how quickly the rumors had flown through the Skool. I hadn't even been gone more then two days and from what conversations I'd overheard so far (and the day had yet to really begin) I'd been arrested, sent to a Psych Ward, murdered someone, become an assassin on the run and just gotten sick. I half-expected to hear 'pregnant' at some point today, but I promised myself whoevers lips uttered that word would end up buried underneath two tons of garbage behind the cafeteria.

I approached the lady at the front, Dib still with me. Although I had tried to convince him many times on the way here that I did not need (nor did I want) his assistance, he was insistent that he help me around the Skool. He had even proudly showed me a special pass he'd gotten to be late to class, if he should need to help me with something. I'd rolled my eyes, but decided to let it drop.

"Oh, Ms. Membrane!" The lady at the counter said, cheerfully, overly-friendly. My eyes narrowed. "You must not remember me, I'm-."

"I don't care," I interrupted, bluntly. "All I need is my schedule, lady."

Dib's hand slapped to his forehead with an audible 'smack'. I hoped it hurt since it annoyed me when he did stuff like that after I talked to people. Like it was my fault other people were so sensitive! I thought honesty was supposed to be a_ good_ thing, not frowned upon.

The woman's smile faltered and her mouth pressed into a thin line, still trying to attempt to look kind. I hardly cared as immediately afterwards, she handed me my papers.

"Thanks," Dib said, for me, since he knew I would offer no words of gratitude to this woman. This got him a genuine smile from the receptionist and I just rolled my eyes, turning away and leaving, not waiting for Dib to follow me and not caring if he did or not.

But soon enough, I heard those tell-tale footsteps chasing after me, and then there was Dib. I was walking while examining my schedule, which had been conveniently placed underneath a map of the Skool. I mean, it wasn't that big, but I didn't know where a majority of these buildings were. I was a Junior, but that didn't mean I knew this whole Skool like the back of my hand. From my classes, to the cafeteria, and back to my classes; no other exploring was done, since I need not concern myself with the rest of the grounds.

The warning bell rang.

"Do you need me to walk you to your classes?" Dib offered, after I'd started making marks from a pencil (which I'd pulled out of my messenger bag) on where the rooms were.

I shook my head, the edge of the pencil resting against my chin as I looked for my next room on the map. "No. I should be able to figure it out on my own. And it's not like I'll get into trouble if I'm late. I'm sure two months into Skool, none of my 'new' teachers are dumb enough to try and scold me."

Dib laughed, "Okay, okay. But last I heard, you _hated_ first per-!"

A screech from down the hall made him stop and my brow rise. We shared a look; Dib looking stunned and me just confused, before the two of us bolted forward. I was anticipating a fight of some sort, while Dib was probably preparing to break it up, a thought I nearly snorted at.

The thing about my brother is, he likes to play the hero. Not so much for the glory as he is _genuinely_ just _that_ nice of a person. Dib has always wanted to save everyone, whether they deserved what was coming to them or not. Like saving the Earth, which is full of corruption and on the verge of self-destruction anyways, because he thinks it has hope. Which, I mean, sure, I guess it does but I wasn't about to run around preaching about it like he did. Like he'd done his whole life.

Really, if you thought about it, me and Dib were complete opposites and just should not be siblings. Our outlook on things were entirely different. But, Dib and I as siblings just _worked_. Thanks to our father's near constant absence, Dib and I had grown rather close over the years. We knew how to deal with each other, which consisted of Dib always trying to protect me (from whatever he thought I wasn't already exposed to) and me keeping him in line when he'd gotten a bit too out there with his paranormal crap (or was just bugging me too much).

Anyways.

We rounded the corner and I smirked.

_Well_, I thought, with a glance towards Dib before looking back at the scene, _This should be interesting._

The stage was this; A kid, pinned up against a locker, various books and papers (along with a few pieces of unidentifiable technology) strewn across the floor. And the person, or should I say _being_, holding him there was my brother's arch-nemesis and self-proclaimed human, Zim. Now, not a day went by (or at least, not many, and few I could remember) without Zim and Dib getting into _some_ sort of fight. So Zim already doing something 'morally wrong' by screaming at the frightened little idiot of a teenager who had probably just run into him by accident with Dib watching, unnoticed?

Zim was just kind of asking for it.

So I backed off into the shadows of the hallway, to remain unseen, while I watched how this played out.

"Zim!" Dib barked, although he looked just a little frustrated instead of really angry, for once. My brow rose, but I shrugged it off, deciding that he was probably just too distracted with me today to really want to deal with Zim. "Let him go!"

Zim stopped screaming, his head whipping to Dib. I watched his eyes dart around, probably looking for some type of advantage in this arena. Oddly, nobody but the four of us were in the hallway, all of them probably having headed off to their classes already.

The boy was released as Dib and Zim glared at each other. The little idiot scrambled off the lockers, darted to the floor to grab only a few things, before running off. Well, that explained why Zim was so pissed off. From what the kid had removed from the floor, it was pretty clear that 95% of this mess was Zim's stuff that he'd dropped when the kid had presumably run into him.

"Get to class, you two!" A passing teacher snapped. Then she pointed to the floor, "And clean up this mess!"

Both boys looked up to the teacher, then back to each other. Dib then glowered at Zim, a silent promise to deal with him later, before storming off, right passed me, not noticing my hiding place, probably figuring that I had already gone off to class. I watched him leave, looking back to where Zim scowled after my brother until he disappeared around the corner. Then I saw him sigh and get down on his knees, his back to me, to collect his . . . whatever it was scattered on the floor. His _stuff_.

Yeah, let's just call it 'stuff'.

*I made a face, glancing at my watch, a gift from Dib that had kept us in communication since we were kids. 3 minutes until class started. I looked back to Zim, who wasn't making much progress trying to organize and gather things in his hurry and frustration.

Well . . . Dib _did_ say I hated first period. If it wasn't for that fact, I doubted I would've even considered this. I'm sure you've figured out by now that I'm not exactly one for random, selfless acts of kindness.

So walking over to Zim (unnoticed because I never make noise when I walk, out of habit) and picking up a few rather far books before standing again and clearing my throat was definitely not what was 'in the norm' for me.

Zim visibly jumped, spinning around, still sitting on the floor, to stare up at me.

O . . kay?

Definitely not the reaction I had expected, but that was hardly my problem. I thrust the neatly stacked books out for him to take, "Drop something?"

Zim _did_ take them, hesitantly, as if he expected this was a trap. Which, to be fair, with me being me and Dib's sister and all, that wasn't exactly hard to believe. Or assume, in his case.

I looked around, my hands on my hips. "Geez, you sure know how to make quite the mess, don't you?"

So, I guess you could say I kind of pitied him.

Finally, he seemed to come out of whatever funk he was in and looked up, to glare at me.

"Aren't you going to be late to class, Gaz-human?" He snapped, eying me disapprovingly, because I was there.

Alright, that sounded more like him. I knelt down, helping gather the fallen objects much easier then his three-fingered hands could. "Everyone expects me to get lost and be late to all my classes today. So I might as well, at least for first, since Dib says I hate it."

"Ah, yes, you're little memory lapse." Zim peered at my brain, though we were separated by about a yard of stuff.

That was another thing, though; we never invaded each others personal bubble. Both of us hate being touched, so it's never been a problem. He leaned in to glare at me once and got punched in the face for it, so it's never been a problem since.

"Yes, _that_." I hissed, making it clear I didn't want to talk about it.

So, of course, us constantly bickering the way we do, he just _had_ to press the subject.

Or, at least, I expected him to.

I'd gathered a considerable amount of things, waiting for the snarky reply about my brain being too inefficient to hold onto my own thoughts. So when the stack of things were lifted and I looked up to see him shoving them into his locker, without a word, I was considerably thrown.

"Thank you for your assistance, Gaz-human." He said, slamming the locker shut and nodding at me. "Now, if you'll excuse Zim."

And then he just turned and left, at a rather brisk pace I noted. I stood up, the final bell ringing a few minutes later, informing me I was officially late to class. I made a face.

"Weirdo," I muttered under my breath, turning, putting any thoughts of his weird behavior out of my mind. I had far too many things to be worrying about then his strange attitude.

Or maybe it _wasn't_ strange, I noted, making a face of deliberation. Maybe in some of the three odd-months that my memory had been erased, Zim and I had gotten into a particularly nasty argument, resulting in something that made him want to avoid me. It wouldn't be the first time I'd done that with someone.

Wait, I thought I was going to not care about this?

I let out an aggravated sigh. This whole memory relapse was getting awfully annoying.

About ten minutes later, I walked into my classroom.

My teacher eyed me with a beaming, excited grin that I immediately wanted to punch off his face. No wonder I hated this class. But I kept my expression nuetral, reading the hope in his eyes and coming up with a merciless plan that would get rid of that in a moment.

"Ah, Gaz," He stated, cheerfully, opening his arms and standing at his desk as if to embrace me, though I was on the opposite side of the room to him, still standing in the doorway. "Welcome back! It's good to have you in class again."

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know," I replied, still not showing any emotion as I eyed the inhabitants of the classroom. They were all eying me back warily, as if unsure of how they were supposd to react to my presence. Good. So at least _I_ hadn't changed in my, eh, 'absence'.

Now if I could just say the same about everyone else, that would be _great_.

"Yes, my apologies," he said, moving to shake my hand, taking it warmly in both of his before I gave it to him. "But don't worry, Gaz, our whole class is more then willing to embrace you into our academic circle to help you out with what you find you need assisstance with. Consider this room your safe-haven."

My brow rose, glancing down at his hands that still held mine, like this guy thought he was my father. "Who are you, again?"

"Oh, my apologies again!" He laughed, releasing me to place his hands on his chest. "I'm Mr. Sunnshyn, your Health teacher."

"Hm," I said, dryly, sizing him up. With a name like that, clothes like those and a demeanor like my Middle-Skool teacher, this man was clearly not fit for teaching someone like me.

And I was about to let him know that.

My eyes flashed up, daring him to come any closer then me. Mr. Sunnshyn stumbled backwards, clearly caught off guard by the look that really hadn't changed besides the slight narrowing of my eyes. I knew _exactly_ why I hated this class: because I hated _him_. Really, I should've been more optimistic, because I had no memory (which would've been my proof) of displeasure towards him, but I didn't care much for giving second chances.

As far as I was concerned, he'd already wasted his first one. Whether I knew what he'd done or not.

"Don't touch me," I stated, plainly, but with enough undercurrent of venom to make him cringe.

I then turned on my heel and went back to my seat, or, the only one vacant in the room. Everyone leaned instinctively away from me, causing a small smirk to appear on my face. I'd always enjoyed the space that came with my reputation. As I said, I don't like that space invaded. So when I think my personal bubble is even _slightly_ threatened, the consequences can prove . . . rather dire.

Clearly, my teacher was disappointed that this different approach (or so I assumed) to his 'first day of Skool' with his reputational student did not provide him with any satisfying results. Thus succesfully squashing any hopes of a different attitude from myself, I prepared myself to listen to what it was we were supposed to be learning in class today. Although it was a bit hard to understand at first, through his frightened stuttering, when he composed himself, my brow rose at the subject.

Ah.

So this was probably where my studies on medications had come from.

Well, good thing I'd kept it then.

* * *

Some time later, after three more classes filled with teachers trying to get 'do-overs' from me, unsuccesfully, I was relieved to find we now had lunch period.

Dib found me, somehow, probably having memorized my schedule while watching me go over it. Or maybe he just had known it for a while, a thought that was particularly irritating. Dib _never_ knew things I didn't. This was just . . . _**ugh**_! I don't even want to talk about it.

According to Dib, the two of us normally ate outside. Now I was never one to take Dib's word on anything, but this was a matter I didn't particularly care about. Besides, there were less people out here then indoors, meaning I'd get stared at less.

Dib was just asking me about how my day was going, with me just beginning to grumble about my teachers and classmates, when Dib spotted him.

Yes, him being Zim.

Who else did my brother look for, besides me (and I was standing next to him, which obviously crossed out _that_ option)?

"I'll be back in a couple minutes, Gaz," Dib warned me, in a low voice, not that I particularly cared when he would be 'returning'. "And then you can tell me about your day, got it?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, sure, Dib. See you in a few."

He pointed to a table, under the shade of a tree, despite the fact it was particularly cold out. "That's our table, okay?"

Again, I just rolled my eyes. "Okay, okay. Just go . . . do whatever it is you do already!"

Dib got on my nerves when he was all 'heroic' and he (sometimes) knew it. So whenever he was around Zim, _I_ didn't want to be around _him_.

Said green figure standing at about the average teenager height (I remembered Dib shouting about the gravity on Earth and what it had done to let his arch-nemesis grow as opposed to the far more intense pressures on Planet Irk) was innocently next to a tree, peering at something that I could not see from this distance. He was oblivious of my brother's presence (as mine mattered not in this kind of situation) and continued to do . . . whatever it is Zim did. I wouldn't know, because I didn't watch him like my brother did (which was obsessive and unhealthy) so you would have to ask Dib.

"Zim!" Dib barked, a bit more angry then he normally sounded when fighting with Zim. Probably because Dib hadn't gotten him for this morning's kid-against-the-lockers incident.

I leaned away from Dib though, a brow rising at his mannerisms, before glancing back to see Zim's reaction.

He looked positively freaked, eyes wide, a reaction that was pretty common until he got every bit as pissed off back and the two began fighting. If it didn't happen every day, I can assure you, I wouldn't know (nor care) for the life of me what their routines were. But as it did happen all the time, I rolled my eyes and ignored the display, just in time to see Zim dart off and Dib, shouting things, as he began running after his foe.

I shook my head.

"Boys," I muttered, sitting down at the table I had been instructed belonged to me. Thankfully, only a handful of people were outside, thanks to the weather, so for at least the moment, I was left to my own thoughts and was not being stared at constantly.

I began eating my bagged lunch, only consuming tiny bites at a time and chewing thoughtfully. I was a slow eater, unless I was _really_ hungry. But, I'm pretty sure that applies to everyone, so that hardly counts.

I watched the icy exterior of the ground, the handful of people outside continuously slipping on it. I continued to snicker, eying them, half-wishing more people were outside just so I could watch _them_ fall, too. That would serve them right, for being so obnoxious all day.

I had amnesia, people.

I wasn't _dying_!

A particularly annoying girl slipped on the ice, letting out a blood-curdling scream as she did so. I flinched and immediately wanted to abuse her savagely. She _fell_ on _ice_. She wasn't getting murdered (although she was now relatively high on my list at the moment)!

However, Dib suddenly came darting around the corner, his eyes immediately on me in horror.

I rolled my eyes, knowing his assumption; for whatever absurd reason, he thought _I_ had screamed. My finger pointed to the girl who was now laughing (I _really_ wanted to hit her now) as I continued to chew boredly. Dib glanced over and was apparently able to deduce the correct conclusion, relaxing.

And then Zim ran into his back, knocking them both onto the floor, a few feet away from each other, sending up a flurry of snow around them. I eyed them on the floor, wondering if that had been on purpose or on accident. My brow rose as Dib groaned, getting onto his hands and knees and shaking off the snow lingering on his uniform like a wet dog. I snickered. Zim just flopped onto his back, apparently feeling the sting of the chilly snow. Or maybe it was just that water thing again but I could hardly know for sure, nor did I particularly care.

"ZIM!" Dib shrieked, clearly pissed for the unexpected face-plant into the snow.

Immediately Zim was more aware, leaping to his feet, a majority the snow falling from his person. He pointed a dramatic finger at Dib, who was still sitting on the floor in an irritated fashion.

"LEAVE ZIM ALONE!" He shrieked. "I REFUSE TO BE IN YOUR PRESENCE ANY LONGER!"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. Everyone knew Zim had this egotistical complex, especially me, who read people like books (aliens included). He was constantly referring to himself in third-person and it was fairly annoying, but natural sounding now that I'd been dealing with it for so many damn years. Dib may think he was the only one involved with Zim so much, but thanks to him dragging me (kicking and screaming) into everything he did, I probably knew almost as much about the egotistical little green idiot as Dib did.

Dib looked stunned, then angry again. "But-!"

"_NO_!" Zim growled before spinning on his heel and taking off, the last of the snow falling off of him as he ran.

Dib made a move to get up and chase him, but just sighed eventually, coming to sit back at my table, dropping his backpack and removing his lunch. Over the years, Dib had learned that thanks to all of his and Zim's little encounters, to prevent a squished lunch, one needed a lunch-box, which was slightly embarrassing to carry around in Hi-Skool, but effective nonetheless.

"Are you done now?" I questioned, boredly. I'd had more then enough of my fill of those two for the day.

Dib sighed, looking down-trodden, but nodded. "Yeah. I'm done."

I smirked at his dejectedness and our lunch was eaten in silence.

* * *

*There was a huge inner debate about whether or not this scene was going to be tossed into a new "Deleted Scenes" folder (as I have made a new one, now that all those old scenes from my last series have been posted) or just left in the story. As you can see, I just decided to leave it in, for the hell out it.

And now-!

*strangles imaginary self*

GAH! I want so much to just dive into the story, but I MUST. BE. STRONG! MUST. HAVE. STORY. MAKE. SENSE!

MY GOD, this is difficult! I am sorry my writing is so painful to read (*head desk*) right now. I really, really promise this is going to get severely interesting, intricate and as good as I know I can be! Like I said, I'm just setting up the playing field!

(sobs in the corner) I know it's horrible, but just bear with me!

Okay, okay. Pity-fest over.

Till the next chapter!


	4. The Unhelpful Flashbacks Begin

I get impatient and I want you all to read this, damn it! I feel baaaad for only giving you once-a-week updates, so I am probably going to update every so often on Tuesday's as well.

BOW TO MY GENEROSITY. :D

Song quote! One of my favorites from my childhood I used to sing to my cousin and wish to sing to my children, whenever I get around to having them.

**"Far away, long ago  
Glowing dim as a an ember  
Things my heart, used to know  
Things it yearns to remember"  
-Once Upon A December from the movie: Anastasia**

Ugh, FINALLY. Now I can begin to get somewhere.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 4  
"The Unhelpful Flashbacks Begin"**

My remaining two classes were incredibly boring.

The only thing that was even _remotely_ interesting (and even still, this was only just slight and received now more then a raised brow from my person) was that I apparently had sixth period with Zim. However, this was not as entertaining as it could have been, as it seemed the obnoxious and self-proclaimed bane of my brother's existence had decided to ditch Skool after his little encounter with Dib. Which, really, I could hardly blame him for.

Dib got on my nerves too.

The rest of my Skool day was hardly eventful and when it was over, I found my brother waiting for me at my locker, smiling helpfully. I just rolled my eyes, got the books I required and headed off to his car.

Now I have to admit, I honestly thought that I was going to be an unvictimized subject to the annoying "flashbacks".

Unfortunately, I was not.

When I had arrived home, dropped off by Dib, who claimed he had some form of paranormal business or another to attend to, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. As I didn't particularly care about Dib's whereabouts (and so wasn't exactly paying attention), I just nodded and waved over my shoulder before kicking my door shut behind me. I yawned.

Because as I said, today had been incredibly boring.

I bounded up the stairs soundlessly, as I rarely made noise, no matter what I was doing. Unless I was angry. During those times, I can assure you, I'm _well_ heard.

This morning I had been to rushed to get a good look at myself. As conceited as it sounded, I was curious to see how I look in my uniform. Not so much for conceited reasons as I was just wondering if I looked like the rest of the slutty girls at my school or like an actual, uniformed human being.

I closed the door to my room, out of habit, since no one was home to walk in on me and examined myself in my full-length mirror.

Immediately, a scowl appeared on my face.

Girls, in general, I believe, would kill to look like me. A less intimidating version of me, but with my body nonetheless. I, however, am not so fond of it. It attracts attention, something I do _not_, under any circumstances, want. I do not work out, in an attempt to get fat and unattractive, but it seems I was just naturally designed for petite attractiveness.

It annoys the absolute _hell_ out of me.

The fact anyone could gain joy or pleasurable appeal out of anything _I_ did (whether on purpose or not) was just something that was out of the question. I always dressed for comfort over looks, to try and stifle some of that emotion rising in people, but in a somewhat fitted uniform, there was hardly anything that I could do about it. Just another reason I hated my Skool, then. I chalked it up as one of many on the list and left the thought to begin wasting with the rest, boredly.

It was during this disapproving examination of my body that I started to feel the familiarity of my actions.

Overlooking myself, really. I froze from twisting myself, to get different angles, glaring at my figure from straight-on. As far as I knew, I had never particularly been interested in what I looked like.

. . . So why did it feel like I'd done this before?

I felt like smacking myself. Of course I'd done this before; on my _real_ first day of Skool. Or, at least, that's what I assumed. If today had gone even remotely similar then what my actual first day had been, no doubt I would end up here, in the same place, eying myself in a vain hope I had somehow gotten less attractive. Most teenage girls would be thinking the complete opposite of that, adjusting some hemline here or there to look better. I, on the other hand, would be trying to do everything in my power to be as unappealing and frightening as possible. Unfortunately though, it seemed I wasn't being given much to work with.

_"Why does it** matter** what you look like?"_

_". . . Be**cause**!"_

My eyes snapped open. I hadn't even realized I'd closed them, which was a fact somewhat unnerving amongst itself. I blinked in my confusion, placing my hand against my forehead. I shook my head, dispelling the words of a conversation I couldn't recall further.

Those _words_ . . . They sounded so . . . _real_. Like they were happening on a record, or something.

This was followed by the annoying mental picture of an expression, although whose face had worn it, I could not recall. I just knew what the expression was; a raised brow, eying something with disbelief. It very well could have been me, as I normally gave that kind of look to people. In fact, it was one of my signature appearances when someone tried to speak to me. But then I wondered how I would've seen myself looking like that. Which meant I must've either been looking in the mirror with this person in the room and looking at myself in the mirror or I was looking at another person giving _me_ that look.

The voices pretty much confirmed the second option, although once again, I could only recognize mine, the second sentence. The other was just an awareness of a sentence being spoken, no real sound to accompany it, to help me figure out who had spoken to me . . . And why I had or had not been concerned about my appearance at the time. The thought confused me as my gaze flicked over my body again.

What in the hell could have possibly happened to get _that_ kind of reaction out of me?

"I'm going to lose my mind if this keeps happening," I mumbled to myself, raking a hand through my short, magenta-colored hair and kicking my shoes off, shrugging out of my jacket.

Immediately afterwords, a wave of vertigo hit me, forcing me to freeze where I stood and shut my eyes tight, waiting for the room to stop moving. When it did not I carefully slid my feet backwards, refusing to fall or stumble and made my way towards my bed ever-so-carefully. When I reached it, I sat down slowly, taking deep breaths to try to calm my body and its reactions to that memory (if it really was a memory, which I couldn't know for sure).

Very slowly, it did. Cautiously, I reopened my eyes, peering around my room. Nothing out of the ordinary. I didn't really know why I _expected_ something to be, but, with how things were going so far, you never knew, really.

A loose breeze in the house made me shiver, closing my eyes tightly at the odd sting that accompanied it.

_"-I'll make you a deal!"_  
_". . . What kind of deal?"_

I was fairly certain neither of those toneless voices were mine. And I didn't really have time to contemplate what sort of deal or anything else about whatever transaction (may or may not have) occurred, as my head was suddenly swarming with toneless voices and faceless expressions so quickly and so warped when presented that my head began to hurt. It wasn't just the average headache, either, as I had a high pain tolerance and it was nothing to ignore a headache until it went away. Even migraines, despite the extra effort and slight difficulty concentrating, could eventually be dealt with.

But this was just . . . far extending the reach of either of those. Pushing my limitations of pain tolerance. I gritted my teeth, breathing through my nose heavily and gripping my heads in some attempt to alleviate the pain that was tearing through my skull.

I became aware at some point that I had blacked out. I could tell by how much softer and somewhat clearer everything was after I did. I knew I wouldn't remember any of it but, hey, what could you really do when you were just struggling to bring yourself back to the waking world unharmed, without spiraling into another comma? I mean honestly, it's just impressive that I managed some sense of perception in unconsciousness. Or, at least, some point in _between_ awareness and sleep.

Thankfully, I did not have to do this alone.

I wasn't sure, at the time, what was going on. At the time, I was positive it was just another level of whatever delusions were going on in my head. To this day, I don't know if it was real or not, but I know I felt it and that's all that mattered.

Someone's hand pressed against my cheek, softly, gently, numbing my swirling tumult of thought for a moment. Things seemed to freeze, naturally, like rain stopping in the middle of falling from the sky. Like I said, I didn't know if it was real, but it was helping my think clearly. I struggled to be coherent enough to focus on that simple pressure against my face, ignoring my hatred of being touched, for the moment. When things started to go from white to gray, I stopped, relaxing, confident that at the very least, I had managed to stop my head from aching.

I drifted into _real_ unconscious, much more comfortable, just aware enough to feel that warmth of a palm slip from my naturally icy cheek.

When I woke up, I was in my room.

Alone.

I sat up at once, having collapsed onto my bed, apparently. I was somewhat sore on one side, as if I _had_ fallen on the floor, or at least thrashed around enough to injure myself. Somehow.

A glance to my clock informed me I'd been out for a little more then an hour. The slight sheen of sweat informed me I'd probably had it rougher then I'd thought when I was out. Disgusted with myself, I stood (carefully, of course, not wanting a repeat of . . . whatever it was I'd just suffered from) and began peeling off my now somewhat soiled clothes, walking into my bathroom, which was connected to my room. Dib had one in his room, as did my dad (although _that_ one was rarely used, since he was never home), each for our own privacy purposes. Also, Membrane believed it was unhealthy to share bathrooms for some scientific reason or another. I'm sure he thought it was important at his time of explanation but I am also certain none of it was particularly interesting to me.

I turned the shower on, fetching a towel from the cabinet and placing it nearby, for my disposal, whenever I got out of the shower. Waiting for the water to heat up gave me time to think and therefore debate on what I was going to do about my little episode back there.

On the one hand, I could tell Dib. But he would probably freak out on me and make me go to the doctors, who were useless. Meaning that option was a waste of time. On the other hand, I could keep it to myself, but risk the possibility something really _was_ wrong with me and get myself seriously hurt. What if I collapsed on my way to the store or driving somewhere?

So there were my two options; ignore that little episode and hope it never happened again or tell Dib and possibly waste my time on a trip to the doctors office.

Well . . . there _was_ a third option. I could always tell my dad. He would prefer to do the tests himself. But _that_ always came with the risk of my minor health problem becoming a giant deal all over again. And, as I've mentioned, I _hated_ attention. So really all of my options sucked, but one 1/3 of them was risking injury or, quite possibly, my life.

I stepped into the shower, running my hands through my hair as I deliberated, frowning as I thought about it. I mean, I'm all for self-preservation but at my own expense? That didn't really make sense. Which meant I should probably just keep this to myself. But . . . Ugh! Why did this have to be so damned _confusing_?

That day, in the shower, I learned not to underestimate the effects memory loss will have on you.

And it sucked majorly.

* * *

I came home several hours after dropping Gaz off to find her, just relaxing, on the couch and playing her Gameslave. It was nothing out of the usual, for once and I felt relieved. But shortly after this relief, pity and sadness.

She had no idea.

. . . But, maybe that was for the better, considering the situation.

To say that I was pissed would be an understatement. But I very well couldn't let Gaz know that, so I smiled at her, like I normally did after coming home from any investigation. She was never interested in what I looked like, whether I looked really haggard or not. But with how she'd been acting lately, I couldn't be sure she'd have that same consistency of being unobservant.

"Hey, Gaz," I said, tiredly. That wasn't so hard to fake, as I really was pretty worn out. "How are you feeling?"

My greeting was acknowledged with a flicker of her eyes, upwards, eying me a split second before turning her attention back to her videogame.

"Fine." She stated, curtly. There was a slightly pause in her sentence, informing me she had something else to add. "You look beat."

This surprised me. Gaz had barely _glanced_ at me. Geez, did I really look that bad? "Yeah, long day. Hows your head?"

Maybe it was just me, but she seemed to steal up a bit at that question. There was always the possibility she had just tensed in reaction to something about her game, but, I wasn't so sure. My brow rose, placing my coat on the hanger and approaching her. "Gaz-?"

"Same as this morning, just a bit sore." She interrupted, just as short and blunt of a reply as her previous comment.

But it unnerved me, for some reason. I leaned over the couch behind her, peering at her a bit. "You mean you've got a headache?"

"If you want to call it that, sure, why not?" Gaz muttered, eyes intently focusing on whatever game she was playing, as usual.

I sighed. Finally, a _normal_ problem to deal with. "You know what the doctor said about your headaches, Gaz. You're supposed to take something for them."

Gaz's response was to snort at me and just keep playing.

I let out an aggravated groan, going into the bathroom to find the Tylenol. I came back in the room, silently, find her still in the same position as before and tossing it on her lap. Rather then jump in surprise, as most people would, her eyes shot to the bottle of pills and then back up to me, sharply. I resisted the urge to recoil but I swallowed my nerves painfully hard.

"Go on," I insisted, gesturing to the bottle. "Two pills."

With a huff, she paused her game, uncapped the bottle, popped out two pills and swallowed them without water. Then she threw the bottle back at me, with insane accuracy. It would've hit me in the head if I didn't have such good reflexes. But even still, I only just barely caught it. When I looked over my hand, still poised in the air from the catch, I saw Gaz had already gone back to playing and nearly rolled my eyes.

Really; what else should I have expected from _this_ Gaz?

"_There_," She hissed, not looking up at me. "Now stop harassing me about my health. I'm fine."

"What do you want for dinner?" I continued, ignoring her request with a smirk.

Her eyes narrowed further, darting up to meet mine with clear irritation. I just laughed, out oh habit, not used to her yet. But when her brow rose in disgust and confusion (mingling with irritation) I stopped, clearing my throat uncomfortably. I even hit my chest a few times, my eyes darting away.

I heard her snort again, but she answered me. "Bloaty's."

What a surprise. At least _that_ hadn't changed.

"Okay, I'll call it in." I stood up from the chair and began walking into the kitchen. I paused, looking back at her, to see her still playing that game. I couldn't help but smile a little.

When Gaz had been unconscious, I missed her. I hadn't made it seem like a big deal, when she had asked me how long she had been out. But "a few days" had felt like a lifetime to me. I had felt ever day, every hour, no, every minute and insignificant _millisecond_ of the time she had been unresponsive, from the moment I'd got that call to the moment before she'd woken up in the hospital.

I sighed, almost inaudibly, turning back around and into the kitchen.

Even if Gaz didn't seem to care, I loved my sister. We'd grown up together, taken care of each other, all on our own. And, though it was a brief period of time, we became . . . close. Like siblings _should_ be, are supposed to be! But now, I felt like I'd lost her all over again. True, she was awake now, to bitch at me and make snarky remarks as usual, but that just wasn't the same anymore. _She_ wasn't the same anymore.

And the thing I had to keep asking myself was . . . How long was I going to keep lying to her?

I growled as I picked up the phone, dialing the number I had long known by heart, thanks to our frequent take-out orders from there. My hand curled tightly around the phone, the other at my side curling into a fist to match. I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to start swearing. Gaz had a habit of hearing me at the oddest of times and swearing would only result in questioning glares I could not explain to her.

I didn't have it in me to break her like that.

No doubt he knew I wasn't protecting _him _by keeping Gaz in the dark. Even if we were sort of friends, my sister would come first in my life, no matter what. And I knew if our roles were reversed, he'd do the exact same thing. Really, without Gaz, neither of us would even be close to the 'sort of friendship' we were at now. To me it was more like an alliance. A joint unity, with the agreement that we were only working together to protect Gaz.

Not that he seemed to give a damn about her anymore. That no good bastard of a-!

"Bloaty's Pizza Hog, what do you want?"

I forced my tone to sound polite and natural as I ordered, looking at the back of Gaz's head while doing so. Contrary to what she (and the rest of the population, save three people, one of them unidentified) believed, Gaz was just so ignorant and oblivious. True, she was a smart girl, practically a genius and I'm honestly surprised she hadn't already figured out everything on her own, but comparing her current knowledge to what she'd forgotten . . . the world was a fairytale.

When I was done, informed my order would be ready in a half hour, I hung up and just leaned against the wall, continuing to watch her play. It was kind of creepy to just stare at my little sister, I'll admit but I couldn't help it. My body and mind ached with sympathy and the desire to just spill my guts and tell her. But I knew Gaz; the new _and_ this old one. If I told her, not only would she not believe me, I would probably get beat up and be forced to watch her storm upstairs by herself. Then, when the idea finally sunk in-!

I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to remember that myself.

_That wasn't her fault_, I reminded myself, reopening my eyes and letting out a silent breath of air, looking at the floor, only to have my eyes drawn back up to the seemingly innocent figure that was my sibling. My gaze softened sympathetically. It was unbelievably hard, to keep her memories in a box and hide it behind my back while she looked for it. Or . . . _was_ she looking for it?

Did Gaz _want_ to remember these three months? I felt like it was just one of those things; you wanted to know until you found out but when you knew, you wished you didn't. I crossed my arms, irritably, looking out the window, in case Gaz felt my watching her (an almost sixth-sense-like skill she had) and turned around to find her suspicions were true.

I was used to not getting what I wanted out of life. Being unable to talk to my sister about what I had a feeling was bothering her in the back of her mind was just one of those things I wouldn't be able to do.

_She's okay now_, Dib, my inner-voice reminded me, making me risk another glance Gaz's way. _She's not hurting anymore._

I figured she was either too deep in her game to feel my eyes on her or she was just plain ignoring me. Either way, it was to my advantage, as I'm sure I would've been scolded for my looks and have an explanation demanded of my person, which would be completely reasonable on her part, but incredibly complicated on mine. How did one go about informin their sibling of an entirely new life they'd developed and had simply forgotten about? I mean, there wasn't exactly a handbook on how one would go about a task such as that. It was completely aggravating.

I mean. . .! What was I_ supposed _to do?

A part of me wanted to let out a noise, a scream, a groan, anything to release my frustration, but that would just tip off Gaz and I was pushing it enough as it was.

So, with a small sigh, I got my keys from the table and began walking towards the door. "I'm going to go get the food, okay? Be back in a few."

Gaz just grunted to acknowledge my words, eyes trained on her game. I gave her another pained look that went unnoticed before darting out the door, so overwhelmed I forgot my coat. I didn't really care, though. Because the truth just sounded utterly horrible, I refused to say it, but I knew it.

I was leaving because I just needed to get somewhere where she wasn't.

* * *

I didn't know _why_ Dib kept looking at me, but I didn't really care.

So long as he just went and got my pizza, everything was right in the world.

But . . . alright, this was all just getting on my nerves. First, I've got my dad randomly showing up and now my brother acting like a total, overprotective little whiner? Geez, could my life _get_ any weirder?

_Dear Life,  
This was a rhetorical question, not a challenge._

* * *

I just had to add that last part in there.

So, I bet you're all confused right about now. My follow-up readers should know well by now that I _**like**_ you confused up until that big moment where I reveal the last piece to the puzzle that reveals everything and then you all go "ooooh, _now_ I get it!".

But, as I could not just pull twists out of my ass like I normally do for this story, considering the rather abnormal (and difficult -_-) way I started it, I decided to leave giant plot-hole spaces in my story that I will fill as I go along.

So, the questions you should be asking right now are:

1) Who was Dib talking about being angry with? His father?

2) Was Gaz's little episode nothing, or something she should be worried about?

3) Where did Membrane go?

4) What happened in those three months?

I refuse to answer these.

At least, not yet. ;)

Till the next chapter!


	5. Another Day, Another Angry Mob

Mmm, I had a hard time with the name of this chapter. Maybe it's because I'm still suffering from the overload of chapter names from my last story, but, I'm sure I'll escape my funk eventually. :)

I think I'm going to put a lyric quote at the beginning of every chapter. It's just fun.

**"If ever your world starts crashing down  
That's where you'll find me  
Lost till your found  
Swim till you drown  
Know that we all fall down . . ."  
-All Fall Down by One Republic**

This chapter I wanted to have some sibling moments, to demonstrate Dib's obvious and (to Gaz) sudden urge to hang around her and her every bit as obvious disapproval to her new shadow.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 5  
"Another Day, Another Angry Mob"**

"Gaz! Get down from there!"

Like he could really tell me what to do.

"Stop being so paranoid, Dib!" I shouted back, rolling my eyes. "I'm not going to fall!"

"It's_ December_! Everything is _icy_! You could slip on accident!" He shouted back, running along the way I was traveling, but on ground level.

I swung around on the pole, eliciting a cry of terror from him that caused me to smirk. I held onto the chilly metal with one hand, the rest of me leaning over the edge so I could get a proper view of his face. Dib and I were pale to begin with, but to compare his normal face with that of his face now, one would easily be able to tell the difference, even with how rosy his face was from the chills of the outside air.

"Well with that attitude," I mocked lightly, placing my free hand on my hip. "I might just. You of all people should know how effective negative vibes can really be, _Dib_."

He scowled at me. A part of being a paranormal investigator meant studying more then just _aliens_; before Dib had been involved with extraterrestrials, he had been really into witches and psychics. That was, until he discovered they were all either fake or without any threatening abilities. Dib was the typical hero, in it for the adventure and the feeling of being able to do a good no one else could.

Because everyone knows that's what heroes are _really_ in it for. That and the girl, but, alas, my brother will never get a girl. That has been something both of us have known for a while but he still hopes for the best. One day.

"Gaz, _please_!" He pleaded, holding his arms around himself in an attempt to keep some of the warmth in his body. "Just get down!"

I just rolled my eyes and swung back onto the more secure parts of the roof, continuing my ascent. "If you're so worried, come up so you can keep a better eye one me."

I didn't need to glance over my shoulder to know he hesitated. But I did anyways, giving my brother a look.

To be honest, the real reason I wasn't coming down was because I had a vain hope that if I climbed high enough, I wouldn't be able to hear Dib and I could be at least _virtually_ alone. For the past completely event-less and boring week, Dib had yet to leave my side. It was annoying as hell and I didn't know how I could get rid of him.

Hence my admittedly dangerous attempt to get all the way to the top of the old Skool building, where the bell was. I was on the first story and the bell could technically be the third story. Either way, Dib clearly did not approve.

"Ugh, _fine_!" He groaned.

My eyes narrowed in irritation that he didn't just give up and go away. A part of me was tempted to just get down, since my plan had failed, but I decided I might as well make Dib climb up here first. Plus, I _was_ already up on the first level . . . My eyes glanced upward, to the rusted old bell.

I might as well go all the way.

Deciding not to wait for my clumsy, graceless brother to get up on the roof, I began heading towards my next perch to continue my ascent. I heard Dib's shouts of protest behind me, but he was ignored.

Winter break was non-existent this year, as the Skool had decided there really was no point in giving us a 2 week break (as it normally included New Years as well). Apparently, we were _so_ rotten we not only should have our _clothes_ chosen for us, but not be allowed any breaks for Xmas. On another note though, Xmas was coming up soon. Actually, it was two days from now. So far, I had yet to really leave the house, which was why I had chosen to go out today. Dib had tagged along, uninvited and now here we were, scaling our old Skool building.

I yawned, running a bare hand through my hair. Unlike Dib, I wasn't such a wimp to need gloves (another thing that wouldn't exactly help him follow after me; the material was far too slippery). One of the reasons I hadn't gone out before because I found myself almost always constantly tired. Which meant that I took naps and slept a lot. At least, a lot more then I used to. Dib had taken notice, as had our father, I think (because he, too, was hanging around a lot more these days), and it had only fueled my brother's worry.

I muttered a curse under my breath, eyes narrowing further at the thought of my sleeping habits.

Something that hadn't changed were those images and voices floating around. I refused to call them flashbacks because I couldn't know for sure. So far, nothing had become clear yet but I felt like if I pushed myself enough, I could break the hazy barrier and discover what I was already supposed to know. This was the only reason that I didn't resist my sleepiness; the more I slept, the more attempts I got at succeeding.

I got to the second story when I heard a thump and looked down. Dib had fallen down the pole I had used to get up to the first story and was shaking the snow off of his hair, looking frustrated. It was hard to tell from how high up I already was but I smirked, turning around and continuing upwards. It wasn't as hard as Dib made it seem but climbing had always been second nature to me. _Everything_ had always been second nature to me really. Dib, I knew (though he'd never admit it; he _loved_ me too much), had always been sore about his little sister being better at everything then he was but it was always my brother who congratulated me first on anything I accomplished (whether it mattered to me or not).

. . . I'll never understand my brother.

I made my way carefully across the roof, not trusting the Skool to keep up with regulations to keep it sturdy, without the risk of it caving in on a classroom. I felt ahead with my foot every step, carefully, refusing to prove Dib right and hurt myself in my attempts to escape him. The sound of tired triumph filled my ears and let me know Dib had made it to the first story just as I made it to the beginning of the third. I pulled myself up onto the ledge, my head brushing against the bell. And then I was at the top.

. . .

How very anti-climactic.

I took in the view with only slight interest. The first thing I thought was, _Wow, I'm really high up, huh?_

A majority of the city was in plain view. But, surprisingly, the view was anything _but_ plain. I chalked it up to the Xmas decorations and the snow but I wasn't quite sure. My eyes narrowed in confusion, my hands going out behind me to prop myself up as I observed the normally unattractive city thoughtfully, a brow up. What was so familiar about this . . .?

I wasn't sure how long it had been before heavy panting and a hand reaching up to grab the ledge informed me Dib had finally made his way up here. I watched him pull himself up, flopping beside me tiredly, groaning.

I smirked. "Nice of you to join me."

Dib shot me a glare, situating himself ungracefully beside me until he was in a sitting position too, legs hugged up to his chest as he pouted. "I can't believe I did this for you."

"Did _what_ for me?" I demanded, glaring at him. "I didn't demand you come up here, Dib. Your paranoia did."

"Which was caused by _you_," he retorted, getting comfortable and sitting next to me, with his legs crossed. Then he, too, seemed to notice the view. "Wow. I never knew you could see all this from up here."

"Maybe you can set up your paranormal junk up here instead of on our roof, then," I suggested, darkly, in a loose attempt to insult him and get him away from the house so I could finally have some personal time.

Dib seemed to consider it, but then just shrugged indifferently, making my eyes narrow.

"Maybe," He said, but he didn't sound particularly interested. Then he pointed, "Hey, look, you can see our neighborhood."

Wow. He was more excited then _I_ was and this was my idea. Well, then again, I never really got particularly excited about anything really. True, the view was nice but nothing exactly impressive. Impressive for a town like this, maybe, but not as a whole. Because while the stupid, naive people around me took things in for the moment, I always had the sense to remember there was better. Some people might think this a pessimistic outlook on things but it just made sense to me. Like a goal, almost, although I had no real desire to really achieve many things. And anything I wanted I normally got fairly quickly.

To prove my point about impressiveness though, I had to have my input.

"Can you see our house?" I questioned, my brow rising.

Dib scowled at me. "Nothing is ever good enough for you, is it?"

I smirked at him, looking back out to the town. "I like to keep my expectations high."

"You're setting yourself up for disappointment."

"That would be if I _lowered_ my standards." I insisted, smugly, inhaling deeply in satisfaction as another particularly icy breeze rolled by.

Beside me, Dib shivered. "Ugh, it's even colder up here then it is on the ground."

I opened one eye to glare at him before closing it again. "If you don't like it, then get down."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Oh, absolutely."

I made it sound sarcastic but there was plenty of truth behind that statement.

Dib just rolled his eyes. "Can we get down now?"

"_You_ can get down. _I'm_ staying up here." I insisted, stubbornly, readjusting myself so I could be more comfortable to make my point.

"Well _I'm_ not getting down until _you_ do," Dib retorted, every bit as stubborn as I was. I guess that was just something that we had both inherited. It certainly explained his persistence hunting Zim down and pursuing his career in his various paranormal activities.

I glowered at him nonetheless. "Fine."

"Fine!"

This caused me to roll my eyes at his immaturity, turning my attention back to the slightly more interesting view. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dib hug his knees to his chest, no doubt in an attempt to warm himself. I smiled inwardly when something else caught my attention and my gaze shifted to the city streets, a brow rising.

"Do you see that?" I questioned, leaning forward to peer at what I thought that was.

Dib, too, then noticed it, looking a bit surprised. "Is that what I think it is?"

"I hope so," I stated, monotonously. "Nothing interesting has happened here lately."

"Gaz!" Dib said in a scolding manner. But I could hear the intrigue in his voice.

He was excited by this almost as much as I did.

"Angry mobs," I said, boredly, leaning back a little in amusement. "Not something you see every day."

"What do you think they're flocking to?" I questioned, a brow rising, the only sign of my intrigue.

"Mm," Dib made a face of contemplation at the procession. The shouts were being carried faintly in the breeze to the point we could just barely hear them. Then he just shrugged. "They're probably just some sort of hippie crusaders."

"Most likely," I agreed.

In that moment, I knew Dib was going against everything he believed in by asking that question. But I also knew that at that moment, sitting who knows how high up in the freezing winter air, Dib was willing to do anything to get down.

". . . You wanna go see it?"

I turned towards him slowly, a slowly growing smirk on my face, a brow rising. "I thought you _disliked_ riots, Dib?"

Dib tried to fake indifference, shrugging again. "Well, I mean, our history was created off of escalated riots and wars. I thought it might be enlightening to my little sister to see one firsthand."

I just gave him an amused look. "Anything to get off the roof?"

"Pretty much."

Before any more words could be said, I pushed myself off the ledge in such a sudden motion it took Dib a moment. But that moment later he was screaming my name, freaking out and staring after me. But I landed easily, in a crouching position on the icy roof. Once I waited a few seconds, to ensure that I wouldn't lose my footing, I stood, turning to grin up at my brother, who was staring down at me with disbelief that was only heightened by my unexpected grin. True, it was an entirely mocking and vicious one but I rarely smiled.

But then Dib shook his head quickly, glaring down at me instead. "Don't do things like that! You scared the crap out of me!"

I scoffed, hands on my hips. "You're just jealous you couldn't do that without falling on your ass!"

Dib hesitated, like he was about to try to prove me wrong. I gave him a warning look that stopped him in his tracks. I was _not_ about to miss watching a riot to take my brother to the hospital. So as I made the rest of the trek down more carefully, but easily, Dib followed behind at two times slower of a pace but made it down eventually. He ran to catch up to me, since I was already halfway towards the car by the time he got down. He opened the door and we both got inside, him sighing with relief once the heater had turned on. I was half-tempted to open the window, if not for the pleasure of the cool air, simply to annoy Dib. But if I wanted to get there soon, I had to be compliant, so I resisted my urges and just sat impatiently as Dib got back onto the road.

"They were heading towards the direction of the main city," Dib began, recapturing my attention as I slid my gaze towards him. "I'm not about to drive up to an angry mob though, so we'll park a little ways away and find somewhere safe to hang out and watch, okay?"

I gave him a mock-salute. "Yes, _sir_."

Dib scowled, but otherwise did nothing in response to my harassment.

I snorted, rolling my eyes and turning away. Like anyone would be stupid enough to attack _me_. Then again, if my safety depended on the average intelligence of this city, I couldn't exactly be _sure_. But I had stopped grown men in their tracks with a single glance. I very much doubted that my capabilities of a full-on glare when directed at a mob would prove inneficient, but whatever. If Dib wanted to be paranoid, so be it. Just so long as I got to see my mob, I was content.

It took about ten minutes to get there and another ten for Dib (5 for me) to get up on another roof. Dib had hidden his car in an ally somewhere and we'd climbed up the back-ladder (illegally, I'm sure, although the cops were too busy trying to contain the rioters to notice us getting up on a building) to the roof of the second story, looking down. I laid down on my stomach with chin resting on his arms, while Dib sat next to me, leaning against a structure as we waited. The noise was rather loud now, as they were particularly close by, since it had taken us a while to get up here. They rounded the corner then, allowing us to see there signs.

Dib busted out laughing.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"_Skool_-protestors?" Dib howled, through his laughter. If it weren't for the near-defeaning racket below, the whole block probably would've heard him. But as this was not the case, neither of us particularly cared. "They're kidding, right? What do they think they're going to gain? The state is never going to cut Skool just because a bunch of teenagers don't feel like going anymore!"

"This is just sad," I muttered, eyes darting across the band of classmates I recognized and those I did not. Kids from multiple district Skools were probably here too, not just ours.

"You think this is about Winter Break getting cut?"

"Probably," I admitted, shrugging a little. "At least they know how to riot, though."

Which, indeed, was true. I noted it was probably a good thing Dib had hidden his car, as I did not feel like walking home and most of the cars in the area were getting their windows smashed in or some other form of defacement. Dib stared, no longer laughing, as they set the local shrubbery (even if it was planted and few) ablaze with who knows what, the smoke drifting up towards us before floating off into oblivion.

Their signs weren't all that impressive. They were just a bundle of demands on Skool being useless and stupid and that those who wanted to learn could, but it just shouldn't be mandatory. I could, vaguely, see their point but the notion was ridiculous. Like this planet needed _another_ reason to be stupid.

Dib's phone went off. I heard the annoying beeping and he scrambled with somewhat numbed, mittened hands to retrieve it from his pockets. Once doing so, he flipped it open and I watched, waiting to see who would call him.

"Hello?" He questioned. His eyes narrowed, making my brow rise. I watched the breath exit his mouth in a cloud, showing me just how cold he was. I resisted a smirk. "Yeah, Gaz and I are watching it now. Why?"

I assumed 'it' meant the riot. I could already see some newscasters below interviewing some of the less agressive of the mob, presumambly a spokesperson for the act. No doubt this was all over the news already, playing Live for everyone in the city (who wasn't already watching it through their windows) to see. So I was able to deduce that anyone who cared about our whereabouts was our father, who, while my father _was_ acting differently (completely insane), Dib was still not on friendly terms with. Yesterday morning they had got into a fight about Dib's future, for the umpteenth time. So it really wasn't surprising Dib wasn't in the mod to talk to him, no matter how concerned he was.

"No, of course not, we're on a rooftop!" Dib snapped defensively, rolling his eyes at me. I smirked and he smiled just a little. It evaporated back into a tight line as my father responded, Dib looking back down at the mob below us that was flooding the streets. Once again Dib just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, glancing at me briefly. "Because Gaz wanted to see it."

I beamed wickedly at my brother, who just shook his head again and looked away.

"_Yeah_, we're fine." Dib growled, in a rather pissed off tone. My brow rose, making me wonder what my father had said to tick him off.

"Hey," I hissed, too quiet for my father on the recieving line to hear, nudging Dib's arm. "Re_lax_. He's just concerned."

Dib gave me an unreadable expression for a few seconds before just shaking his head again, speaking in a more controlled tone. His anger was still evident in his voice but with any luck, the garble from the phone-lines would mask that. "We're going home when it's over. See you then, _Dad_."

He hung up on my father and I rolled my eyes, looking back towards the crowd. Dib liked to do that to my father, stress the term to insinuate that, in a way, it just did not fit. Which, sometimes (most times), it didn't.

"Well, that was awfully cooperative of you," I stated, dully, watching as several students attempted to knock a telephone pole over unsuccesfully. Dib said nothing and just watched, like I did.

It lasted hours. Eventually Dib adjusted to the cold and stopped shivering so violently, only shuddering at the particularly icy, infrequent breezes. They ran about in the main square of town, recking anything they could get their hands or tools on. All the major shopping stores, especially the ones that sold Skool supplies, were violently attacked. When the police arrived, everyone scattered, as was expected. Out of the sum 300+ teenagers, they were actually only able to catch and arrest about 20 of them.

So, score one for the police department.

When Dib and I went home, I was surprised to find that Membrane wasn't there. Dib shrugged, not seeming to care. He was probably actually _relieved_ he wouldn't have to deal with him for another who knows how long. Dib and I removed our winter-wear, hanging them up in the closet before lounging boredly on the couch. Dib eyed my boredom as I sat upside-down on the couch, head hanging over the edge.

"You should start doing a sport or something, Gaz." He stated, out of nowhere.

I angled my head towards him in disbelief, my brow rising. "What?"

"You heard me," He insisted, nudging me gently with his foot. I glared at him a little, but he ignored it. "All you do is lay around on the couch and play your video games. You should be more active. Do a sport or something."

My brow rose. "You're kidding me, right? I don't _do_ sports, Dib. P.E. being the acception and that is because it is forced upon me."

"Well that's another thing," He stated, sitting up a little more to look at me. "You've got all A's in P.E. And you told me that your teacher wanted you to try out for the soccer team anyways."

My eyes narrowed and I sat up, glaring at him in disbelief. "When?"

"Last month you-! Oh . . ." His face dropped awkwardly to his lap. "Right . . . Sorry."

I snorted, hugging my knees to my chest so my chin could rest on them as I scowled at him. "Smooth, Dib. _Real_ nice save you did there."

"I didn't mean-!"

"Forget it," I snapped, silencing him. It remained quiet as I rested my forehead on my knees, sighing.

It had been more then a week. A week should've been more then enough for me, a superior being of the human-race, to have recovered at least _some_ of my memories. But had I? Nope. Not a single second of those three months belonged to me once again. It was at these times that I half-wished I kept a journal somewhere, something that I could trust. But no, I wasn't stupid enough to leave the thoughts of myself lying around for someone else to read. Even if Dib knew invading my privacy would result in death, he was nosy and my big brother. He would risk it because he'd be 'worried about me' at some point; enough to risk getting torn to pieces to glance at the book.

"Gaz," Dib said, quietly.

Again, I sighed, looking up at him and eying him. As much as the fact annoyed me, if anyone even had a general idea about how I felt about this, it was Dib. Hands down. Somehow, despite my defensive manuevers and the almost entirely one-sided conversations Dib and I had, my brother knew me. And not just a little, he knew me well enough to know when to push a subject and when to just back off and run for the hills. I didn't know how and I didn't know why, but he just did.

"If it will get you off my back, fine, whatever," I muttered, getting up and heading towards the stairs. "I'l try out for the soccer team or something.

* * *

I couldn't do this.

I just . . . No, I_ had_ to do this.

I was restless. It was horrible but I had no other option but to exist. Termination of my existence would ensure a swift destruction to the priority mission. It wasn't like I had any help. Or, at least, any _useful_ help. Usless help positively surrounded me. If I wanted anything done though, I was going to have to do it myself.

And even then, could I really trust myself after what had happened?

An image flashed in my mind, making me freeze up as I blinked the face and the slight laughter that came with it away, shaking myself and lowering my head, to look at my shoes. That image made if very clear what I had to do. I reached out to the counter before me, snagging a familiar object I'd been trying to ignore. I stared at it for some time, the imagery replaying over and over in my head.

_"Why are you giving this to me?"_

_". . . I don't need to explain myself to you!"_

I watched my fingers curl around it, slowly, until it was gone from my view. Abruptly, a wave of determination, frustration and blind protectiveness filled me as my hand curled into a tight fist.

"I'm not going to give up," I hissed, in the silence that hadn't been broken in days. "I'm not going to let her die."

Even if it meant my life.

* * *

Ugh, I am _so_ not in the mood to be writing, but I love you guys, so here ya go.

It's been publically decided amongst my school (at least in my immediate vicinity) if anyone were to become a murderer, it would be me. Normally, that would be hilarious to me, but, as I said, not in the mood.

Hope you liked this chapter. I apologize for the lack of Zim, but, I promise, once he starts showing up consistently, you will be pleased.

Gaz playing soccer.

You all know this should be interesting.

Till the next chapter.


	6. The Last to Know

Currently in love with this song. The imagery it brings is inspiring.

**"This was my first love  
She was the first to go  
And when she left me for you  
I was the last to know. . ."  
-Last to Know by Three Days Grace**

Felt like Gaz could relate to being the last to know, since everyone else around her knows more then she does. Sorry for all the time jumps! It's for your benefit, I promise!

And I am loving all of your comments! Especially the ones about the trailer, because I show them to Whateves567 and she goes off on how long that took and etc., etc. and it's just funny to me to see her complain.

Also, my apologies for not updating Tuesday, but as I said, Tuesday updates will only happen every so often.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 6  
****"The Last to Know"**

I didn't really thank anything of the holidays, to be honest.

My dad showed up on Xmas Eve, as if things needed another reason to be weird. Dib and I had been prepared though, or, at least, _I_ had and allowed Dib to sign his name on the card. I'd done my Xmas shopping early and Dib had done it sometime last week, I assumed. Membrane was actually half-inclined to keep us home from Skool (thankfully, the real Xmas was on a Saturday, although really, I couldn't have cared less) but Dib and I had convinced him otherwise. Honestly it was because we wanted to get as far away from _him_ and his odd behavior as possible.

I half-wished we hadn't though, because upon entering, the place looked like Santa had vomited on it. Green and red glitter littered the floor, as did other various festive decorations. Beside me, Dib looked pretty impressed. I, on the other hand, was eying everything with disdain. Really people; could you _be_ anymore ridiculous?

I should've known better then to offer up a challenge like that.

"Wow," Dib commented as we walked, staring around in wonder. "They really know how to-!"

"Make this place look like a bad calendar?" I interrupted, cringing away from everything around me in irritation.

Dib nudged me, which got him a severe look in my agitated state. He backed off a little, but continued. "Aw, come on, Gaz. It's Xmas! Lighten up!"

"First off, it's not Xmas, that's tomorrow," I corrected, shoving one of my pale fingers in his face. He recoiled, but I did not stop to let him recover. "And second, I will not lighten up because I'm going to have to look around for _those_ all **day**!"

My brother looked up to where my finger was pointing, off to the side. Then he abruptly paled, rubbing his neck uncomfortably as I crossed my arms, glaring at him and watching his cheeks flush horribly. Said object in question was a mistletoe because of course, this wouldn't be Hi-Skool without someone sneaking in inappropriate things like that.

"Oh," He stated, shyly.

"Yeah," I snorted, seething. "_Oh_."

As previously mentioned, I absolutely loathe when people touch me or my personal space is in any way violated. If anyone were to be as unfortunate to walk under a mistletoe with me (whether it be on purpose or on accident) they would find themselves not only deprived of a kiss but buried so far beneath the snow that no one would be able to find them ever, _ever_ again.

Thus noted, we kept walking, eventually parting ways when Dib had to leave me to get things from his locker.

It seemed that despite my disapproval, people were taking advantage of the precariously strung decorative plant. Friends were casually bumping other friends beneath the mistletoe as what I assumed were their crushes walked underneath, creating a rather awkward and unnecessarily mushy scene as their companions egged them on. My eyes narrowed in disgust at the sight as I entered the combination on my lock, muttering curses towards those people under my breath.

". . . Positively _disgusting_ . . .!"

My ears were very sensitive, picking up someone else's rather cross opinions about the 'romance' going on around the Skool. I paused from retrieving my items, glancing over my shoulder, a brow rising. The hunched shoulders, the sharp movements. Yup; I _definitely_ wasn't the only one irritated by this. A small, amused smirk appeared on my lips, resisting the urge to snicker to myself. Things were always better when other people were miserable, even if I was already irritated to begin with.

However, the person I was currently laughing (inwardly) at the expense of seemed to notice my attention, despite their back being towards me and turned, shooting me a death glare.

I nearly sneered at them in return but instead chose to just glare back defiantly.

Their brow rose before their eyes narrowed, suspiciously.

"Why are you looking at me?"

I shrugged, indifferent now. "Because you're pissed off and that's funny to me."

They growled, inhumanly. "Keep your opinions to_ yourself_, little Gaz-human. Bad things happen when the Almighty _Zim_ is mocked!"

I rolled my eyes, retrieving the last of my books. "How 'Almighty' is someone whose so scared of my brother they ditch three days of Skool just to avoid him?"

He froze, mouth open in words he could not form. I stood, my locker being one on the floor, my bag slung over my shoulder as I eyed Zim with a bored expression. What I had said was true; I hadn't seen Zim in a few days. I probably wouldn't have noticed if my sixth period teacher hadn't said his name about ten times before finally deciding that he was absent. Daily. It was incredibly annoying and I had half a mind to punish Zim for being absent, but then immediately after decided I really didn't care and it would be a waste of my time. Besides, he was already more ticked off then he had been, thanks to me, which was revenge enough. I nearly smirked at the notion but decided against it.

It wasn't in my nature to smile when someone outside of my immediate family was around to see it.

Then his lip curled bag into a snarl, making my brow rise and, against my better judgment, a pleased, sadistic grin appear on my face. My expression only seemed to piss him off all the more and he let out a low, intimidating hiss. I could only assume it was intimidating though because the passing, oblivious students jumped, fear present in their eyes as they stared at Zim (who took no notice of the onlookers) and bolted, running away squealing with terror. It reminded me vaguely of the sound Vampire Piggies make when you slaughter them but I quickly dissolved the similarities in my head. I absolutely _refused_ to compare my idiotic classmates to anything even _remotely_ similar to my precious games.

He took angry steps forward, suddenly incredibly close to my face, close enough to be in danger of invading my personal bubble (which would result in a swift and severe punishment in the form of some method of violence or another).

"Zim is no coward," He growled at me, still speaking low. "I take what I want and do as I please. You are in no position to judge Zim, _little Gaz_!"

The last to words were a mocking sneer that made me greet my own teeth. If there was anything I disliked being called, it was little. Mainly because I was rather slim and any reminder of my appearance just pissed me off in general. My eyes narrowed severely and I saw Zim twitch, clearly affected by my much more intimidating glare but refusing to show it. I had to give him a little respect for that.

But not much.

I shoved him away from me in a movement too fast for him to notice and leaving him no chance for him to catch himself. He slammed into his locker with a pained grunt, sinking to the floor and groaning. His hands clutched his head as he started swearing in what I assumed was another language, his native tongue, as it didn't sound even remotely human.

I stepped until I was in front of him, arms crossed, glaring down at him until he recovered enough to look up at me. He seemed stunned, just staring at me like that. I just glowered down at him.

"Next time," I said, slowly, enunciating every word. "Don't get so close to me. I don't like people in my space."

Then I just turned and left him there, to stare after me.

*At least, that's what I had _planned_ to do.

Unfortunately, before I could so much as lay a hand on him for being so recklessly close to me, a spark of pain radiated up my spine, shooting into my head before I even felt the first pinch. I recoiled from Zim unintentionally, stumbling a few steps backwards before firmly planting my feet on the ground, refusing to fall into the lockers like Zim had. That would be far too ironic and I would _not_ give him the satisfaction of seeing me get knocked off my feet my what appeared to be nothing.

But, I can assure you, had I not been a such a pain-tolerant person, I might've started screaming.

Instead I gritted my teeth and clutched my forehead, my other hand curling into a fist as my unnaturally sharp nails dug into my hand. Vaguely, I wondered if it had broken skin but that thought was immediately pushed aside as another blurry, white-streaked and unidentifiable image flooded my brain, flickering harshly in and out of reality and whatever this picture was.

Why was it so damn _familiar_?

". . . _**Gaz-human**_?"

A bell range.

The mingling of the questioning words and the school-bell ringing sent me hurtling back into the present and I flinched, not realizing I had closed my eyes. It took a moment for me to realize I was tingling everywhere, like someone had just doped me up with some drug while I had no been looking. I blinked rapidly, looking up from the floor to see Zim peering at me with an unreadable expression on his face, a single finger under my chin. He looked predominantly surprised, but there was something else I couldn't quite place in my disheveled state. I guessed it was curiosity.

I jerked my chin away, only to, much to my utter humiliation, slam my head into the lockers.

Now Zim looked alarmed, staring at me as I let out a stream of curses. I clutched my head again, trying to shake off the pain. My back was sore but I wasn't sure if it was from that first spark of pain or from hitting the lockers so hard. Geez, these things could really pack a punch, couldn't they?

". . .!"

I looked up at the noise of surprise, breathing somewhat heavily. Zim was staring down at my uncurled hand, which was bracing me against the lockers. He lifted a shaking finger, pointing at said hand, looking a little sick and losing a little color."

". . . You're bleeding!" He squeaked, looking disgusted.

I looked down to indeed see that from where my hand had been, blood was now smeared. Only on my locker, fortunately, but I knew no one would question the violent, frightening girl in the school having blood on her property. It wasn't much but still. I couldn't be sure there wouldn't be any questions. I raised my palm to my vision and Zim, too, peered at my pale hand marred with my own red, liquid innards.

Indeed, my nails had made quite the impression on my palms.

"Great." I hissed, dropping my bag. "Just great!"

I hastily removed my jacket from it (with only one hand), slipping it on gingerly. I hissed when the fabric still brushed against the wounded flesh, despite my carefulness. Throughout this Zim just stared at me, looking utterly disgusted, like he was going to vomit. His eyes were huge, to the point where I wondered if his contacts were going to pop out.

"A-Are you alright?" He stuttered out, grimacing, trying not to look at my palm, now covered by my sleeve.

I growled, muttering swear words all over again, too fast for even me to realize what I was saying. I felt like those pathetic kids who cut themselves and then tried to hide the scars, ashamed of them. Idiots. If you were going to mar yourself, at least do so with pride of your battle scars. Now, as this was an entirely different situation, I had no problem hiding my marks.

"Yeah, Zim! I'm just freaking dandy!" I snapped, throwing my messenger bag back onto my shoulder. "Now stay the hell away from me!"

I spun around but my forearm was grabbed, harshly and I turned, met with Zim's furious eyes.

"It was not Zim who started this!" He shouted. "_You_ did!"

My eyes were wide, flicking to his hand on my arm and then his face, twice. He looked defiant, pissed, but still uneasy. He could probably smell the blood. Then my teeth clenched with an audible snap, a noise very close to a hiss coming from between my teeth.

He was touching me.

_Nobody_ touched me.

Zim suddenly found himself slammed onto the floor, thanks to a rather well-aimed punch from my good hand. He hit the floor hard, the noise of his head hitting the tiles making a mildly disturbing cracking noise. To anyone else, I might've been worried I had killed them, but Zim, I was well aware (once again, thanks to Dib's repetitive ranting) that he was built stronger then a human. So he could take the punch. It would hurt like hell, but it wasn't going to kill him.

"Do. Not. Touch me." I said in a threatening tone.

And this time, I really _did_ leave, his eyes on me, stunned, as I stormed off.

Or at least I figured as such because I refused to give Zim a second glance or another thought for that matter. I just walked, still careful of _where_ I was treading (damn these festive decorations), all the way to my first class. And despite my determination not to think about Zim again I couldn't help but think one thing.

Sixth period was definitely going to be interesting.

However, for now, I was going to have to get through the first five before anything could come of that.

I flexed the hand I had used, opening and closing it. I was probably going to be late to class but I didn't really care.

Not only was I pissed but I was embarrassed, which just made me all the more pissed. I couldn't even control these damn flashes at Skool? _Seriously_? It was bad enough I had to have them at all but in front of Zim, while I was _fighting_ with the idiot? What would happen if I crossed the street and I had a relapse? I could get killed if I don't learn to control myself!

It was incredibly frustrating to know that I couldn't do anything about this, no matter what I did. In my attempts and retrieving things, deciphering even the smallest of seconds, I had failed miserably and just ended up back where I started all over again. I had punched my wall a few times but as that only resulted in a sore palm and an elevated irritation level, I had just stopped doing that and sucked it up, taking it out on anyone else who was stupid enough to pick a fight with me or get in my way. This morning, it had been Zim, but now that I was even worse off then before, no one was safe. I wondered who would be victimized next, trying to distract myself before I got into class. My dad, maybe, if his knew personality really got on my nerves, but I doubted it. Dib?

Yeah, probably Dib.

I noticed a pain radiating in my back as I walked, that ache that was becoming increasingly familiar. I started questioning whether I should go to the bathroom to inspect myself and see if I had made some kind of mark there as well, from hitting the lockers. But I decided against it; I was already going to be later enough as it was.

I got into class just before the second bell rang, barely on time. Mr. Sunnshyn shot me a look of apprehension as he debated giving me a tardy. I ignored him and the curious (and somewhat wary) eyes of my peers, walking briskly before sliding into my seat. After a moment everyone turned back to what they had been doing before I walked into the room, which was prattle annoyingly about what they were going to do for Xmas tomorrow. I glowered in my seat, my hands curling into fists. Immediately though I hissed inaudibly, relaxing my grip as my hands stung at the still fresh and open wounds. I swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in my eyes. I absolutely _refused_ to cry in front of these people. No way in _hell_.

"Alright class, settle down," Mr. Sunnshyn said eventually, overly optimistic as always. "Today we're going to talk about healthy, medication-free ways of calming yourself down in stressful situations!"

I nearly groaned, but instead settled for rolling my eyes. Today was going to be a _long_ day.

"Now, everyone close their eyes! We're going to be doing some deep breathing methods!"

_Oh geez_, I thought, _Someone kill me now_.

I immediately recanted this thought though, my eyes snapping open as I my gaze darted around suspiciously. I was unaware of when I had gotten so paranoid but since my days had gotten progressively worse since my last rhetorical thought, I wasn't taking any chances. Mr. Sunnshyn was oblivious of my lack of participation in his exercise, as his eyes were closed as well. Everyone around me was breathing heavily and I gave in, closing my eyes when I decided there was nothing wrong.

I was going to survive.

For today, at least, nothing else would happen.

The rest of my three periods were boring and tiresome. They were made longer by my aching back and hand, which felt like it was on fire. Eventually both pains began to fade though and by lunch time I had decided I might 'accidentally' fall in the snow and fall into something icy that may or may not relieve some of the burn in my hand. Either way, it couldn't hurt _anymore_ to try, so long as I was careful about how I fell.

To make matters worse, I was pretty sure I had some faint bruising on my arm from where Zim had grabbed it earlier, when he'd been pissed off. I rubbed it with my good hand, scowling as I headed towards the doors outside. As much as I discredited Zim for being an idiot, the guy was pretty strong. Or, at least, he was when he was mad.

I did end up 'stumbling' in the snow. My hand shoved into some ice as I landed on my hands and knees, my good hand supporting most of my weight. The ice stung but it _did_ relieve a majority of the heated pain. I knelt stationary for as long as I could without looking suspicious before finally, reluctantly, standing up and brushing the snow off my clothes. I tossed my bag onto the bench next to me before pulling out my lunch, trying to look like I wasn't in pain. True, I wasn't in _as much_ pain but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt like a bitch.

I was so focused on my discomfort, I didn't note my brother's approach until he was sliding into his seat across from me.

"Hey Gaz," He stated, peering at me.

Paranoia swept over me for a moment before I shook it off, figuratively. There was no way he knew what had transpired this morning. I ignored my irrational fears, nodding at him instead. "Dib."

"How you feeling?" He questioned, his head tilting to the side. "I saw you fall back there. And you look a little sick."

I nearly paled but made myself not. I hadn't counted on anyone seeing me fall, let alone my brother.

So much for a fool-proof plan.

"Just stubbed my boot against something," I stated, shrugging and then wincing when I did so. I looked up and Dib's brow was raised, suspiciously. I looked away, boredly, feigning disinterest. "And my backs acting up. But it's probably nothing."

"Your back?" This seemed to catch him off guard. "From what?"

"I don't know," I replied, rolling my eyes like this conversation was ridiculous. I racked my brain for an explanation, coming up with something a moment or two later. "Probably from those scars acting up."

"Scars?" He looked confused a second before it seemed to come back to him. "Oh, yeah. But, wait, I thought those were supposed to have gone away already, not flare up again."

I would've shrugged again, if I could. "I don't know, maybe they're just being difficult."

Despite my optimism, Dib didn't look quite so convinced. "I don't know, Gaz, something just doesn't feel right. Maybe we should take you back to the doctors for a follow-up visit, just in case."

That was _exactly_ what I had been avoiding.

Immediately, I was pouting. "No. Doctors are just sadists with degrees. I'm not going."

"Gaz," Dib sighed, getting ready to begin an argument.

I glowered at him.

It didn't work.

It didn't work on Dib's part either.

"Gaz, it's been over a week. You should be getting better by now, not _worse_. You're body isn't healing right. There's obviously something wrong."

I scoffed at the notion, rolling my eyes. "You're right about one thing, Dib; I'm still healing. Which means I'm not _done_ healing yet. So when I am done and if I still have problems, I'll go to the doctors, but until then," I shrugged, resisting the urge to wince again, letting the sentence hang in the air as I ripped off a chunk of my lunch in my mouth.

Dib looked beyoned irritated. In fact, I rarely saw him this ticked off at me (since he rarely had the backbone to disagree with me, let alone argue). But despite my surprise, I stood firm. Not that anything really could have changed my mind. I sighed, rubbing my temples. Arguing got this situation nowhere closer to being resolved. It only aggravated my headache. I had a feeling, though, that Dib wasn't about to let this drop.

So I decided to resort to drastic measures.

"I've got tryouts for soccer after Skool today," I said, changing the subject. "So don't wait for me."

Dib seemed surprised, and then mildly pleased, but still bitter about the argument. "Do you want me to pick you up afterwards?"

"No," I insisted, "I'll walk."

It was a lie. I'd found out yesterday that soccer tryouts had actually been in November and now it wsa the end of December. Clearly, I had 'forgotten' to tell Dib about my decision to not try out before I'd been in that accident. That or I _was_ on the team and no one had bothered to remind me. Either way, it got me out of a car ride with Dib. I could just stall for a couple hours and hang out on the field and kick the ball around a little before heading home. I'd bought a soccer ball while I was out Xmas shopping, just for the hell of it. I'd yet to touch it besides throwing it in my locker.

Now was as good a time as any to test my abilities.

Dib looked reluctant, then raised an arrogant brow. "Are you sure that's safe, in your condition?"

I seethed. "I'm not in any 'condition', Dib! I'm _**fine**_!"

At this, I slammed my hands down on the table, effectively ending the conversation. A moment later I instantly regretted it, feeling the intense sting of my forgotten injured hand. I left my food, mostly untouched, no longer hungry, biting my lip to keep tears from forming in my eyes. Dib might be willing to let the conversation go for now, but it he saw me crying, for whatever reason, he'd hound me until he discovered my injuries.

And that was _not_ something I was willing to put up for discussion.

I hurried off, heading towards my locker. It was only as I was turning the corner to the hallway that contained my locker did I remember that I still had suspicious red liquid (because no one besides me and Zim could say _for sure_ that it was blood) smeared on it. I glowered and stopped, wondering if I should just turn around and leave, but then sighed, decided against it. Nobody was going to question it anyways. I'd just waste some of my time after Skool cleaning it up before going to mess around outside in the chilly air. So I continued onwards, waiting for that metallic smell of blood to hit me.

It didn't.

I approached my locker suspiciously, eyes scanning it severely.

Not a drop.

Not a single freaking _drop_.

Obviously, someone had touched my locker. And while I should probably be grateful to whoever it was that had cleaned my blood up for me, saving me an explanation, I felt particularly irritated. What if I had _wanted_ that blood there (the thought made me grimace; even _I_ wasn't so sick as to want_ that_)? The person had no right to touch my things! I hissed under my breath and entered my combination with my good hand. When it opened I stuffed my useless things inside, crapping what I would need for my next two classes. This only darkened my mood all the more.

I only had one more period separating me from _Zim_.

"Ugh," I groaned, almost inaudibly, shaking my head. "I am not in the mood for this kind of crap today."

I was half-inclined to ditch but decided against it. Ditching meant I was every bit as cowardly as Zim was and I would _not_ stoop to his level. No, I would just have to tough it out and ignore him all of class, which probably shouldn't be too hard, as my hand was still faintly bleeding and if he could indeed smell it, then he'd probably want to be as far from me as possible. A mental imagery of him running sick and pale from the classroom brightened my mood a bit, but not by a considerable amount.

I sniffed, noting the smell of bleach. So not only had someone cleaned up my locker, someone had _thoroughly_ cleaned it up. I suspected it was the janitor, for obvious reasons. He and I had a bit of an understanding; I could damage Skool property so long as it was in moderation and he wouldn't tattle on my so long as I kept my brother from blowing up the Skool (which actually happened often before I reigned him in), a mess that the janitor would then have to clean up on his own.

I made a face of deliberation. Well, if the janitor had done it, I _guess_ it was okay.

The bell rang just as I slammed my locker shut. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I didn't notice how much time I'd wasted. I sighed, feeling the sting of my hand starting to come back. I didn't have the time to go for another snow-dip, or I would. Plus, if Dib happened to see me again, then I would be screwed. I wasn't willing to risk it.

I got to my fifth period just as the late-bell rang. Time seemed to drag on forever the minute I took my seat an in my boredom, my mind started to drift. I rested my aching forehead against the desk, not caring if my teacher scolded me or not.

The voiceless words came drifting back, in and out of my ear.

"_Help YOU_? _Why should I help YOU_?"

"_Look, it's my sister, she's-!_"

"_You're sure they took this one-?_"*

"Gaz!"

My head snapped up, my eyes wide. Then I shook it off, turning my head to my teacher, who was eying me with distaste. My eyes narrowed at her expression threateningly, but she ignored me. She pointed an old, wrinkled finger towards the board.

"What is the answer?" She demanded of me.

I glanced towards it and then back at her, boredly. "Seven."

She scowled. "Correct. But keep in mind, Gaz, I don't allow sleeping in my-!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I interrupted, resting my head back on the table. I heard her make noises of irritation but otherwise did not proceed to bother me.

Now . . . what had I just been hearing before she interrupted me?

I racked my brain but it was hard to recall a memory of a memory, especially when I'd been startled out of my train of thought (my teacher would pay for that later; no matter how bitter she was, she wasn't going to get away with snapping at me). I let out an irritated breath. This was just annoying now, the dangerous aspect pushed outside of my mind for now. I let my thoughts just focus on my headache, hoping it would bring back whatever I had just experienced.

Then I stiffened.

Had . . . Had I been _asleep_ when that happened? This morning too . . . No, I was awake for both of them, which meant . . .!

"_Great_," I hissed to myself, inaudible to anyone but myself as I folded my arms underneath my head. "I'm _screwed_."

It meant, for those of you who cannot catch up, that my flashbacks were getting stronger. For the past two weeks, I had only been getting them when I was on the brink of sleep or in a particularly weak state of mind. But I'd now had two in one day and while I was, for the most part, awake. I groaned inwardly, shaking a little in frustration as my hand began aching a little more.

It seemed like forever until the bell rang.

I got up, stiffly, slinging my bag over my shoulder. My teacher shot me a nasty look as I left and for her troubles, I pushed a kid into her globe-stand, which wobbled before falling onto the floor and shattering. She screamed at the boy, who looked to me hesitantly, as if debating whether or not to blame me or take the punishment unto himself. With a glare from myself he quickly decided, snapping his mouth shut and looking apologetically towards our teacher as she began writing up a letter to the principal's office for him, all the while screaming about how priceless that antique was.** I would've snickered if her yelling wasn't hurting my head so damn badly. It wasn't until I was about to walk right under it did I remember.

Man, today was not my day.

Missle-toe.

Okay, whoevers idea it was to put these things up was about to die!

Thankfully, I happened to glance up just in time, skidding to a stop before I could actually end up underneath it. However, the person behind me did not quite have as good of reflexes and bumped into me rather harshly. In my considerably weakened state I lost my balance, but was able to twist around and land on my backside instead of having to brace myself on my hands. I looked up from my lap, furiously, my bag knocked about a foot away from me.

A boy stared down at me in surprise and then terror, holding out a shaking hand to help me up.

"S-Sorry," He stuttered out, sweat starting to appear on his forehead, despite the chilly temperature.

I bared my teeth at him, looking up purposefully and then back at him. When he looked up he let out a squeal of terror, noting that if I had indeed accepted his offer to help me up, we both would've ended up under the missle-toe together. He looked at the insulting plant, back at my furious expression and then just decided to turn around and run, screaming, down the hallway.

I huffed, blowing a strand of disheveled hair our of my face. "Idiot."

A mocking chuckle startled me, especially when a pair of hands gripped my arms and forced me back onto my feet.

"Well, aren't you just a pitiful thing today?"

I'd forgotten who was in this class.

_Damn_, my brain today!

I spun around as soon as his offending hands were off of me, only to find my back shoved in my face. I snatched it away from him. If I was mad before, I was _beyond_ livid off now.

He had his arms crossed, sneering at me. He spoke too quietly for anyone else to hear, not that anyone was listening, too absorbed in the holiday spirit to pay attention to the weird kids in class. "Keep your hands to yourself, Zim. I do _not_ need your help."

"I beg to differ," He mocked, spinning around on his heel and speaking to me over his shoulder for a moment until we both took our seats, which were, as I previously mentioned, next to each other. "Zim has helped you _twice_ today. Truly your race is a pitiful one if you require Zim's assistance so much in the course of one Earth-Day."

My eyes narrowed, a brow rising. "Twice? I knew you were dumb, Zim, but I didn't know you couldn't count."

He glared back at me, then scoffed, indifferent, turning his attention towards the board. "It is _you_ who cannot count, little Gaz-filth. Once just now and the other with your locker. Although, that was mostly for my benefit." He made a face of disgust. "I could smell the blood from my classroom." Then his eyes darted distastefully to my hand, which had, for the most part, stopped bleeding. "Although, I suppose stale blood can be tolerated for _one_ class period."

My eyes widened in surprise.

_Zim_ had clean up my locker?

I growled at him. "Who said you could touch my things?"

He looked intimidated, for a minute, before turning away again, to look out the window. "Zim does as he pleases!"

I was about to argue with him when the teacher entered the room. So I settled into silence, seething in my chair.

Zim was going to pay for this.

* * *

*Originally, this was not in the story. I went back and added that in because I liked it.

**Why do teachers keep things that are important to them in a classroom? You are just ASKING for someone to come break it! KEEP IT AT HOME!

This chapter is really long. O.o

I would've gone on, but, as I just said, it's really long.

Can Zim and Gaz last one period in a classroom without one of them killing the other?

You'll have to see next chapter.

And yes, Gaz's flashbacks are getting worse.

In a few chapters, things get_ interesting_. *devilish grin*

Till then!


	7. An Unfortunate Surprise

I was about 300 words into writing this when my computer randomly rebooted.

So, this is the second time I've written this.

Enjoy my pain at having to rewrite something I've already written but got deleted on accident, something that happens a lot and I HATE doing!

Ahem, pardon my outburst.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 7  
"An Unfortunate Surprise"**

"Class, class, settle down." My teacher, Mr. Grimsby, insisted. This man was probably the most boring man on Earth and I resented him for it. Zim still seemed smug and it was irritating me all the more. I had the urge to to dig my nails into my hand again just to reopen the wound and make him smell it all of class, but that would cause _me_ more pain as well, so that option was out.

It was tempting though.

I wondered how he reacted around girls who were on their period.*

"Alright," Mr. Grimsby said monotonously, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses and eying the paper, as if even he too was bored with himself. "Let's start attendance. Taylor?"

"Here."

"Alyssa?"

"Here."

It went on as such so I tuned it out, resting my chin on my arms until I noticed, from my peripheral vision, Zim shifting uncomfortably. I glanced at him and noted he was not shifting, but actually just playing with some device on his wrist. I rolled my eyes, no longer interested.

"Gaz?"

"Here," I stated, just as boredly.

"Mm," Grimsby nodded, adjusting his glasses again. "Zim?"

"Eh? Yes! Yes!" Zim said, covering himself as he brought his attention back to what was going on in class. "Zim is present!"

Mr. Grimsby gave him a disapproving look. "Nice of you to join us, Zim. I was wondering if you were planning on showing up to class at all this year."

"My apologies, Mr. Grimsby," Zim said, sweetly, making me grimace in disgust and angle myself away from him. "Zim had a family issue that needed to be resolved."

He had that tone of voice that was sly, implying what he had just said was a lie with an air of truth to it. Only someone as observant as I was could've caught it though, meaning Mr. Grimsby, nor anyone else in the classroom, had any hope of noticing it. I ignored this though, uninterested. If I could get through class without speaking to Zim, or otherwise interacting with him, I would be satisfied.

Thank Bloaty's it was Friday. I wasn't sure if I could handle another day of this without a break.

"Yes, well," Mr. Grimsby seemed willing to let it go. It appeared he was, like many, a sucker for a little charm. "Try to show up to my class from now on, won't you? I don't bite."

Zim gave him a grin that revealed his own teeth and I was once again positive everyone but me missed the evil glint in his eyes. "Of course, sir."

Mr. Grimsby smirked a little and then it evaporated, going back to attendance. "Karon?"

"Here."

I heard Zim snickering to himself and decided there was now a rivalry between what was more annoying; Zim's little giggle or Dib whining.

"Have you ever thought that you're actually not particularly smart, but the majority of the people you speak to are just particularly stupid?" I questioned in montone, hoping this would cut his laughter short.

It did. He pondered the idea and I sighed in relief, now that it was quiet. My head was starting to ease up on me but still, Zim's annoying voice wasn't exactly helping it heal.

So of course he just _had_ to keep talking. At least it was a whisper.

"Zim is superior," He informed me, quietly. "And while it is true your kind is mostly stupid, I am still superior."

I rolled my eyes, turning my head away from him, not feeling up for an argument. "Mhm, yeah, whatever Zim."

Another blisfully quiet pause was shattered, thanks to his impatience.

"You're normally much more uncooperative then this." He noted, suspiciously. When I turned to him a brow was raised, eying me like he thought I wasn't telling him something, some secret that would end in this conversation with me having the upper hand. "What is wrong with you, insolent little human?"

I let my eyes flash with irritation and saw him jump, leaning away from me a little and looking like he almost regretted asking.

"What's _wrong_," I hissed. "Is that I've got this obnoxious kid sitting next to me insisting I be more argumentative when I am _sick_ and not in the mood!" I sat up a little more, using the full-force of my eyes on him. "Is that enough 'spunk' for you, Zim?"

And then I was lying my head down again, burried in my arms as I tiredly listened to my teacher drone on. It always took forever for him to take attendance. Either way, I didn't plan on listening to his lecture for this evening. I was too tired to care.

". . . You don't _smell_ of any human ailment."

I groaned, irritated. "Zim, will you please just-." I cut off, confusion dawning overcoming me as his words sunk in. "Wait, we smell when we're sick?"

Zim nodded, both of us still speaking quietly, so Grimsby wouldn't notice. "Yes. Like your heavy perfumes, except more bitter tasting."

It took me a minute before I realized what he was talking about. Zim didn't have a nose, just an indent insinuating a nose on his face. He probably smelled us mainly through his mouth, meaning he got the taste too. I made a face of disgust though, thinking about that smell. It just made me sicker.

"Gross," I commented, dryly, burrying my face back in my hands. I could feel his eyes glaring at me, but he said nothing more, thankfully.

"So, on todays lecture class, we'll be talking about . . ."

I huffed, tuning out my idiot of a teacher and letting my brain rest. I was vaguely aware that Zim continued to raise his hand to answer questions, as I kept hearing that annoying buzz of his voice speaking. He was probably just trying to be a kiss-ass, to make up for the days he'd been absent so that next time Grimsby wouldn't make up such a big deal about it. I didn't _particularly_ care though, as the more Zim volunteered to answer, the less likely it was that I'd get called on. I kept drifting in and out of sleep, which, thankfully, did not have consist of any memories floating around. Just peaceful, exhausted and much-needed sleep.

"Very good, Zim!"

_Oh, gag me with a spoon_, I thought, adjusting myself to be in a more comfortable position. Although it wasn't exactly like these lab tables were built for sleeping on.

Even with my drifting in and out of consciousness, class seemed to move very slowly. A couple times I flinched when a breeze rolled through the classroom, jolting me awake, but I soon after just fell asleep again.

The warning bell for the P.E. kids ringing woke me up, officially. My eyes peeled open and I was relieved to find that, for the most part, I was all better. Which was good not only for the obvious reason, but now I could legitimately practice with the soccer ball instead of just kind of sitting and wallowing in my pain. I noted that there was a paper in front of me, undoubtedly one that had been passed around while I'd been 'resting'. I took out my folder, slipping said paper inside before waiting, quite impatiently, for class to finish.

"That'll be all for today, children," Mr. Grimsby informed us, waving his hands as he went to his computer. "Talk amongst yourself until class is over."

Immediately their was excited, animated chatter about vacation. I rolled my eyes, looking out towards the snow outside. It seemed it was getting warmer, too, as there was only a very thin layer now. I made a face of distaste. The melted snow had probably made the ground all muddy. I sighed, shaking my head and deciding it was probably for the better. A disheveled appearance would only convince Dib of my story, if he felt inclined to be suspicious in the first place.

Zim seemed to notice my mildly depressed state, a brow rising. "What's the matter, Gaz-human? Not fond of the frozen water?"

"Snow, Zim. It's called _snow,_" I informed him, bluntly, folding my head back in my arms. "And no, I was just thinking the ground was going to be all sloshy since the majority of it seems to have melted."

I only answered so he'd shut up. Instinct informed me (probably collected from prior knowledge I couldn't yet activate) that if I didn't answer his stupid questions in a straight-forward fashion, I would only get another far more irritating one.

"_Snow_," He said, slowly. And then, for once, he was quiet, seeming to contemplate this. I saw him mouthing the word over and over again, like he didn't quite understand it. Well, at least it kept him occupied.

"Idiot," I muttered, just as the bell rang.

He shot me a look, informing me he'd heard my remark. I just ignored him and left, for my locker, preparing myself for the rest of my evening. I was starting to think, in theory, that if I exercised more then maybe my mind would be too preoccupied with the present to care about the past. I walked mostly oblivious of what was around me, or at least, not focusing on it consciously. My mind was mainly wrapped up in what I was going to do about Dib.

Upon reaching my locker, I shoved everything (including my backpack) inside and slammed it shut. I wouldn't need anything tonight anyways, since it seemed the teachers had all taken pitty on us and excused us from homework for the weekend. I removed the soccer ball, moving it between my hands before pressing on it, to check for air inside. It seemed that there was nothing wrong with it. I grabbed my coat and slung it over my shoulder, kicking my locker shut behind me. It closed with a satisfying 'slam'.

It wasn't that cold outside.

I rolled the ball around in my hands again, facing the goal before me. Everyone was long gone, off to participate in whatever vacation they had planned. At some point, apparently, someone (probably the janitor or grounds keeper) had taken the time to move the snow off the fields. Which left me surrounded by two-foot-high mounds of snow, but otherwise, the white flakes did not disturb me.

Granted, deciding to play soccer in a skirt wasn't one of my better ideas, but I didn't really have a choice. It was either this or go home to Dib, my father and their endless questioning. I sighed, placing the ball on the floor, thankful that our uniform included sneakers. Otherwise this would just be a mess (as if it wasn't already).

I rolled my foot around the ball, testing it a little. I backed up then, focused on both the net and the ball. I took careful aim, making sure I was positioned correctly, before darting forward and kicking.

It slammed into the corner of the net without a second thought.

* * *

She kicks hard, that much I'll give her.

However, upon retrieving her ball, her foot becoms caught in the net. She slips when she continues to walk, not noticing she has been ensnared and falls abruptly on her backside. I cannot help but snicker, quietly, though at this distance, she has no hope of noticing my form. It's not spying.

It's watching after her while she decides to be stupid.

The curses she both shrieks and mutter reach my sensitive hearing and I snicker more, leaning my head back against the tree as I laugh. She gets up, eyes darting around to see if anyone has seen, unaware that someone has. But she seems satisfied, if not frustrated, twisting around to look at her backside, where she landed. Mud stains her clothes and I see her mouth curl back into a snarl, angrily. But then she lets it go, shaking her head, knowing it is of no use to be angry.

She spins the ball in her fingers while walking back to position it again, placing it back into place and trying again. It's too hard this time. It goes soaring over the goal and I see her place a frustrated hand on her forehead before making to go get it.

In my own hands, I continue to lightly toss and catch the only possession I've ever purposefully kept on me. It feels both heavy and light, a burden. But aren't all things that are important? I smirk as I purposefully eye her form.

Apparently so.

She's swearing again, I can hear it. Something about her hand. I scowl.

"You little idiot," I mutter, catching the small object and crossing my arms as I glare at her. "Hurting yourself over a meaningless argument."

I knew it wasn't the argument she'd had. I just didn't know what else it could have _been_. A part of me wondered if it was something I had done, but as the thought made me queast, I put it out of my mind.

This practice of kicking and aiming went on for a while. Then, after who knows how long, the ball went quite a ways off, to the middle of the second field. It'll take her a while to get there, especially at the leisurely pace she is going, as there is no rush. I pause, squeezing the object in hand and debating my next move.

To say it would be stupid would be an understatement. However, to say that logic was winning over my desire would be an outright lie. I watched her as she passed the net, oblivious of my inner-turmoil, although I'm sure she had some of her own at the moment. It was hard to believe that anyone felt more conflicted then me, but I knew she was not stupid. Gaz knew very well something had changed, but she remained comfortably oblivious, like I wanted her to be. Like she _needed_ to be.

But that wasn't the point. I glanced down at the object in hand, then back up at her retreating figure. There was a very large chance that I would be seen. There was an even larger chance that she just wouldn't find it.

However-.

"It seems your stupidity is rubbing off on me," I muttered, looking up from my hand with a smirk.

* * *

Stupid ball, going over the goal like that. I was well aware it was my own fault but as I was not in the mood to be practical, I just continued damning the little piece of inflatable plstic to Hell as I walked.

I was uncomfortable, the water from the puddle starting to seep into my underthings. I wasn't about to go home, having just started, but I really wished that I had packed an extra pair of clothes or something. In fact, it was pretty stupid that I hadn't. There was nothing I could do about it now, though, so there wasn't any point dwelling on the regret.

I eventually reached my ball, picking it up and smirking at the mud on it. I hadn't really thought this would be such a messy task, to just kick the ball around for a little while.

That was when I heard a faint splash, my body tensing automatically as I looked up.

There was nothing on this field. I turned, looking back to the one that I had started on. Still nothing. I made a face, suspiciously looking around. My body was on edge, ready for someone to come charging out of nowhere. After waiting a full five minutes though I decided I was, for the moment, safe, though my muscles never relaxed. I walked briskly, focusing on my peripheral vision, but still, I could find nothing.

I walked back to my original position, placing the ball down again, focused. _This one_ was going in. I took two solid steps forward before kicking.

It did what I wanted. Another goal. It landed in the puddle in the middle of the goal with a satisfying splash.

"Huh," I commented, stepping into the net to retrieve my ball, "Maybe I should have gone out for the team."

I picked up my ball, about to start over again, when something dark and velvety-looking caught my eye. I paused, glancing around me again. That hadn't been there before, had it?

Wary, I placed my ball down beside me, on (mostly) dry ground. I reached into the puddle, grabbing the object in my hands. It was gross, thanks to the mirky waters of the puddle. I wiped it a little on my jacket, since it was going to be washed anyways, examining it. I was wrong. It wasn't all velvet, in fact, it was mostly metal. It was still very dirty though.

"Weird," I noted, eyes narrowing at the object so clearly out-of-place.

Curiousity peaked my interest as I noted that a line ran across the middle; it could open. For a moment, I was hesitant. What if there was a _reason_ someone had left it here to rot? But eventually I decided I didn't really care and shrugged. Before opening it immediately though, something else caught my eye and I paused, noting that there seemed to be some type of engraving under the mud that coated the object. I removed my jacket altogether, dipping it in the shallower end of the puddle again, to soak the mud. It softened it as I flicked the thicker parts of before wiping the last parts of the muck off, my eyes widening the cleaner it got.

Four words very clearly printed on the top, but two that should not have been there; my name.

_Property of Gaz Membrane._

I froze, breath hitching. A fire blazed through me, making me shiver as I looked around. Yet for all I knew, this could've been here for a while. It was certainly old enough. But . . . why would something of _mine_ be on the field? What had I been doing here and why hadn't I noticed this things absence?

Impatience overwhelmed me; I opened it at once.

It wasn't anything special, but it was oddly familiar. I was pretty sure it went in my hair, but as I had never been one to accesorize, I couldn't know for sure. It was small, a little gray butterfly. To be honest it wasn't ugly. In fact, I quite liked it. An odd feeling of deja-vu began to stir up in me. Obviously, I had seen this before, since it was, apparently, mine, which would also explain why I had a favor towards it. I was reluctant to touch it though, as my hands (and the rest of me) were really quite filthy and I had no desire to get the delicate little (possible) hair-piece dirty.

I made a face. Well . . . it had been about an hour, right?

An icy breeze reminded me that I was wet, everywhere. I should proably get home before I caught hypothermia. So, with a resigned sigh, I closed the lid and shoved the box in my pocket, throwing my slightly damp and fairly dirty coat on, breaking into a run. My house was about a 25 minute walk and a 15 minute run. The run should warm me. I was glad I had left my things in my locker, knowing they too would've probably been coated with icy mud by now. For some reason, a wave of fear began to creep through me as my jacket bounced while I ran. Protectively, almost instinctively, I placed my hand in my pocket, gripping the box and securing its safety. I didn't really know what it was or why it had been dropped in the field, apparently unmissed. But that was exactly the point.

If I didn't remember it, it was from the 3 month gap. Which meant, if I was at all lucky, that this little thing might help me remember at least_ something_ of my past. At this point, there was no going down. One thing was for certain, though.

This could very well turn out to be a very helpful present.

* * *

I smirked, watching her dart off faster then a girl of her frail stature looked capable of. I noted that her ball sat on the icy grass, long forgotten, but I (and obviously she) did not care. I left it where it was, knowing that she would eventually remember and come to retrieve it. To find it missing would only prove frustrating.

I was satisfied. I hadn't intended for the splash, but I was quick enough. I knew I would be. Waiting until she was out of sight, I turned, heading back where I had come from. Then my smile of amusement disappeared and I looked down, worriedly. It would prove problematic if that little belonging assisted her at all in her memories. But . . . . I couldn't bring myself to keep it. It wasn't mine. It was hers.

Just like I was.

Another sigh made me shake my head, dispelling the thought. This was fine. I could be satisfied being a guardian angel, though I was obviously no angel. But that was alright, as she was obviously no innocent creature that needed protecting.

Or, so we thought.

* * *

*Sorry, had to put that in there. XD

AHAHA, END.

Yes, the unexpected surprise was Gaz getting a gift from NOBODY.

Stop guessing, I will kick you! Spoilers are bad! But, alas, while some of you are convinced you know the identity of said monologuer above, you all know NOTHING! It doesn't matter who is protecting her! It only matters what you are not paying attention to!

AND YOU DON'T KNOW! AHAHAHAHAHHAHA.

. . .

Sorry. Minor spurt of exhaustion-fueled insanity. I am tired and this chapter was difficult to write, for some reason.

Ha, I love playing in the mud. Until you catch hypothermia. Then it's not so fun anymore. :/

Till the next chapter, my pets!


	8. The Xmas From Hell

Ugh, I hate little kids. I want to kick them when they run around screaming for no reason and be like, "SHUT THE HELL UP!" but before I do I remember it's their parents fault for not controlling them and shoot said parents the most evil of looks they laugh nervously and scoot their children carefully from the room to go scream somewhere else. This could make me a very mean person, but unfortunately, I don't particularly care. -_-

Enough of my ranting!

**"I give it all to _you_!  
Let go of me!  
Reaching as I _fall_  
I know it's already over _now_  
Nothing left to lose  
Loving you again  
I know it's already over  
Already over now . . ."  
-Already Over by Red (One of my favorite songs)**

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE! I _JUST_ GOT HOME!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 8  
"The Xmas from Hell"**

_"You-!"_

My eyes flicked to the side, uninterested.

"_Hate-!_

"_**Everything** about me!_"

Dib and I shared a look that made it clear we were both contemplating feigning some sort of heart attack.

"_Why-?_"

I smirked.

"_Do you-?_"

He shook his head, deciding against it.

"_**Love me?**_"*

I sighed, plugging my ears with my palms.

A low guitar note ended the performance and I, along with Dib, sighed in relief at our table. Everyone else seemed genuinely disappointed, which I had no idea understanding why.

"Very much in the Xmas spirit." I commented, sarcastically.

Dib nodded his agreement, eying the exiting stage-presences with distaste. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

"That was wonderful!" My father said, appearing from behind both Dib and I, making us nearly jump out of my chair. Dib knocked his drink over in his surprise and hurriedly set it upright, wiping up the little puddle with his napkin. My father sat down, not noticing our alarm to his popping out of nowhere after having disappeared for the past three hours.

We were at some convention made up of his peers and their children, three of which who had just been performing for us. I was incredibly bored and even more uncomfortable with the curious eyes on me, all of them male (and more then enough of them old men, which give me the creeps). My father had forced Dib to wear a tux and myself to be garbed in a dress, of all things. It was simple and black and draped to my knees but that didn't seem to make a difference.

And people wonder why I hate being appealing to the eye.

By now I had given up, draping Dib's discarded suit-jacket around my shoulders. He hadn't asked when I'd come back from the bathroom and just removed it from the back of the chair, without a word. I think he knew. Especially since he was shooting a few of the older men questioning gazes.

"Dad, where have you been?" Dib questioned, dabbing up the last of his drink (non-alcoholic, of course; we just weren't those kinds of kids, although I'm positive we could get away with it). "We haven't seen you since we sat down."

"Mm? Oh, yes, I have been discussing with my colleagues our next move in one of my long-time projects. They're quite fascinated with it." He informed us, proudly. Although, I really couldn't remember a time when he_ wasn't_ acting proud of arrogant. "I'm sure it will be one of my greatest successes!"

"Great, Dad," I commented, half-heartedly. My father was not in a tux, he was in his usual lab-coat and goggles, but a lot of the doctors here seemed to be sporting the same garb, so he didn't _particularly_ stand out. "When are we going to get to see it?"

He laughed, patting me on the head. "No spoilers, Gaz! You've got to wait like everyone else." I rolled my eyes but nodded. Then something caught his eye, "Oh look, there's Charles and his wife. Excuse me children, I've got important business with him."

And once again, he was gone.

Dib and I watched him leave, neither of us really having expected him to sit down for a few minutes in the first place anyways. I turned back to my brother, the movement making his coat slip off and reveal my bare shoulders. Immediately, I felt at least a dozen eyes on me and growled to myself, fixing the clothing back into place. I felt the eyes linger a few seconds before turning away, probably dissatisfied.

"Do you know when we're leaving?" I questioned, sighing.

Dib shook his head, for once looking every bit as pessimistic about this situation as I was. "Nope."

We'd exchanged gifts this morning, Dib wearing mine and his present in my bag. It was a new game; apparently the one I had owned last month had broken from overuse and he wanted to give me a chance to start over. He'd had to pre-order it a while ago which had made me smirk at his sneakiness in pretending to do late Xmas shopping for me. My gift to him was a new pair of shades, these ones indestructible, since he always seemed to be breaking his. He had thanked me vigorously. '_Our_' (mine, with Dib's name on the card) present to our father was a tie, kind of a hint for him to ditch his lab coat and try dressing like a normal person.

Very subtle, no?

My dad had seemed grateful, laughing and patting me on the head, but he always was grateful and pleased, so I doubted it was a gift that would ever be used. I got my dad this gift every year (a different tie though) and I was pretty sure they were all collecting dust in his every bit as underused wardrobe.

I sighed, my hands twitching under the table as I played my new game in my mind. I couldn't be sure if it was accurate, my imagination, wondering if these were imprinted memories or just my fantasies. Either way, it was a thousand times better then giving any attention to these stupid people.

* * *

I hadn't really look at Gaz all night. When she'd come downstairs, I noted she looked pissed, but cooperating. That was about as much as could be hoped for so I had only glanced enough to let her now I had indeed seen her long enough for the compliment to be genuine before we headed off to the car and our father. As there was nothing better to do besides watch pervy boys, grown men and lusty old men check out my little sister (_ugh_, I'm disgusted just thinking about it) I glanced to her to try and form a conversation.

This was the moment I caught sight of the delicate butterfly pendant slipped into her hair, casually, as if it was purposefully hiding from me until this moment.

I hadn't meant to gasp. I had meant to not make a sound, examine to be sure I was not mistaking the thing for something else and then look away, trying to figure out how she got her hands on it if it was indeed what I thought it was.

But of course, I squeaked. And at once her closed eyes opened, peering at me questioningly.

Oh crap.

I was dead.

"What?" She demanded, already in no mood. Then again, she was _never_ in a good mood. At least, not recently.

I looked away, shrugging. "Sorry. Thought that was a real bug in your hair."

I was surprised at how believable that excuse way, refusing to praise myself anyways. I wasn't out of the woods yet.

Gaz scoffed, sitting up, removing the thing. "No, Dib. It's fake, _see_?"

She shoved it in my face and I squeaked again, taking it from her. This allowed me a better view to see that it was, indeed, that object I had taken it to be in the first place. I cleared my throat in the hopes that I would no longer squeak embarrassingly (as a few nearby tables were peering at me oddly) and I handed it back to her. She began pulling her hair into place, to replace it.

I chose my words carefully.

"_Sooo_ . . ." I felt like smacking myself for my far too casual tone, which made her brow rise and her eyes glance towards be again, but continued. "Where'd you get that? I don't remember buying that for you."

She paused, seeming to consider her words, which made me curious. Eventually though, she replied, "I found it."

Found it? There was no way she could've _found_ that! However, I wasn't about to let her know what I knew and so made myself look confused. "Found it? Where?"

"The Skool's field, in the back," She stated, simply. It was hard to believe, but I could tell by the tone in her voice she was telling the truth. Gaz was a bit more blunt and sharp when she was lying. "In a puddle. Don't ask me why, I don't know either. But there it was, so I took it."

I smirked, teasingly. "Isn't that stealing?"

"No," She paused again, glancing to the table and I almost missed the next words. ". . . _It's mine_."

My eyes widened. She didn't know. She couldn't know. If that _idiot_ had-!

"It was in a box, with my name on it," Gaz said, before my thoughts could run away with me. "I guess I dropped it and forgot about it." Finally she clipped the little butterfly back into place, looking up at me with an unreadable expression. "Weird, huh?"

I nodded in agreement, looking down at my drink and picking it up in my hand before she could see could see my thoughts in my eyes. It sounds paranoid and weird but with Gaz, one must take the absurdest of precautions.

"Sure is." I replied, taking a long swig of it.

I could feel her eyes boring into me as I drank. I imagined the condensation on my glass as my nervous sweat and for a moment I was terrified she was going to press me, but she did not. Finally, after a fairly long drink, she looked away and I put the glass down, resisting a sigh of relief.

The night was a long one, to say the least. Gaz and I were on the brink of just getting up and making a scene so we could get the hell out of this place when Membrane- I mean my dad, came back mercifully and informed us it was "past our bedtimes" and time to go. Now normally we would've argued we were too old for bedtimes.

But who were we to tell our father what to do?

We left, Gaz tapping her foot impatiently at every goodbye. I scowled disapprovingly when we had to shake hands with anyone who had been sizing her up, feeling like I should do something when she had to shake hands with them, theirs lingering on hers for too long and smiling just a bit suggestively at her and speaking with a touch of innuendo. My idiot of a father never noticed, always talking to someone else, but Gaz was never afraid to to bite back with a monotoned but scathing remark that made the men pale. I always laughed and excused both of us afterwards, before we could make a scene that would keep us here any longer. By the time we got to the car Gaz had blown of most of her steam and I felt just a little more comfortable.

Gaz hadn't looked sick all day.

She lied to me, that much I knew, but I wasn't going to push it. Gaz was smart. If she really needed help, she'd know how to get it, with or without (although I _would_ prefer with me, sometimes, with Gaz, that just wasn't an option) my help. Although if things started to get progressively worse, I would step in, but for now, all seemed stable in my sister's head and body.

It was late when we got back. I found, surprisingly, that I was exhausted. It was probably all that mind-numbing boredom. I always get really tired when I get bored. I yawned, hearing a thump. I glanced to Gaz to see her immediately kicking off her shoes, both of which hit the wall, before starting upstairs, presumably to her room.

My father patted me on the head, "Goodnight, son.

"Uh," I replied, warily, ". . . Night, Dad."

Yes, my dad is still acting like a freak. Not that he ever wasn't a freak, but, you know what I mean. I'm not quite sure how we're supposed to deal with him and neither Gaz nor myself has figured out the reason behind this sudden paternal instinct. Although I have decided something went terribly wrong in an experiment that made him this way and soon enough it would wear off and things would go back to normal. Or, as normal as I could hope for.

"_Another riot sends the city up in smoke-!_"

I froze.

* * *

I had to take a quick shower to get that disgusting feel of those old-people eyes off my skin. True, it was a little late for a shower but I hardly cared. Tomorrow was Sunday anyways, so I could sleep in if I needed to. I'd barely gotten out of the shower when there was a knock on my door.

"_Gaz_!"

I huffed, wrapping my towel around myself and leaning against the door, not offering to allow my brother entrance and just speaking through the door to him. "_What_, Dib?"

"_Can I come in?_"

"I'm changing."

"_Oh._"

I shook my head at his uncomfortable tone, "What do you want?"

"_There's been more riots in town today. I want you to be careful if you're going out, alright? The news says the police received letters saying they're not stopping until the policy is changed and since the district is refusing-._"

"Be on the lookout. Got it." I interrupted, as he was beginning to babble. "Goodnight, Dib."

"_Night, Gaz._"

And his footsteps faded away until I couldn't hear him anymore. I sighed, tiredly, letting the towel drop before sliding into the pajamas I'd laid out for myself. I crawled into bed tiredly, my eyelids drooping heavily as I pulled the covers up to my shoulders. I laid on my back, like I normally did, allowing myself to drift into unconsciousness.

I would never believe what I dreamed that night.

* * *

_It wasn't anything specific, at first. For a short time I wasn't even aware I had fallen asleep, as I was on some surface or another, on my side. Slowly I became aware of something trailing up my back, but not in an affectionate manner. It had more of a . . . searching feel to it. Like it was looking for something. My back began to tingle. I shifted at the discomfort._

_"How are you feeling?" A familiar voice echoed, in a way only the voice in a dream could sound. I immediately recognized I was dreaming. It wasn't too hard to recognize from all the practice that I had been getting at this. But I didn't fight it. I let it continue._

_I paused, trying to turn around, but I couldn't. It wasn't that I was restrained, I just couldn't. Like my body was too tired to._

_"Hm?" My voice said, expressing my confusion. I was struggling to turn, to remember that familiar voice and put a name or a face to it. I was able to turn my head, to look over my shoulder. Wherever I was, there was a light that silhouetted the figure speaking to me. It had its back to me, hands moving across some type of table. I thought I could see some types of tools on it but I couldn't be sure. Everything was too dream-like. I laid back down on the table, my back to the figure, too tired to continue straining to see._

_The familiar voice chuckled. This time the touch that ruffled my hair was affectionate. I grimaced, trying to figure out what was going on. No one touched me like this. No one would dare be so familiar with me._

_The voice laughed, removing their hand from my head. "You must be incredibly tired to need me to repeat myself."_

_"I am," I noted, irritated._

_The hand rested on my arm, a strange texture; it was leathery but nice. Strange skin. "Can you move?"_

_"No," I said, at once. At the very least, I knew this much for sure._

_A finger of the hand rubbed my arm, gently, before patting it. "Do you need me to carry you?"_

_Where were we going? Where was I in the first place? I struggled to move, to get up, to look around and try to decipher my whereabouts, but it was futile. My body was completely exhausted and I just ended up slumping back against the surface I was on, which seemed to be platformed off the ground, probably to the my waist if I were to stand. But, apparently, I could not._

_The familiar voice chuckled again. This was incredibly annoying. The name to the voice was on the tip of my tongue. I'd heard it before. Where had I heard it before? The hazy facts of my dreamworld were annoying me. As if to defy reality even more, the hand, apparently uncaring about touching me, moved under me, between my hip at the table, circling me, another moving under my legs, picking me up. I let out a startled noise. No one should be this comfortable touching me. They should be terrified just at the idea of my skin brushing theirs, but this person was holding me like it was nothing of consequence._

_I blinked rapidly, tilting me head upwards to finally catch a glimpse of his face. I froze._

_He smirked at my baffled expression. "Calm, little Gaz. I'm not going to hurt you."_

_I just kept staring._

_His smile dropped. "Something wrong?"_

_I was shaking. This wasn't happening. This was just a dream._

_So of all the people I could dream about, why was it him?_

_I reached a hand up, touching his cheek. "NO!"_

* * *

This startled me so hard I woke myself up, breathing hard. I wasn't sweating but I was clammy. My mouth was dry, as was my throat, making my panting sound ragged and shaky. Then I realized that I _was_ shaking.

I shuddered, hard, pulling my legs up closer to me. I reached a hand to my forehead for a temperature check. Nothing. No fever whatsoever. So I wasn't delusional with illness. That wasn't a memory, it didn't feel like one. It was entirely different from the deja-vu feelings those held. This was just a dream and nothing more.

So why was I dreaming about _Zim_?

The very thought I was dreaming about anything besides his murder was preposterous. Outside of Skool, of which interaction was completely unavoidable, Zim barely featured in my life. If anyone should be dreaming about him it was Dib (however odd that sounds), since he was always so obsessed with catching and exposing him. I imagined Dib's dream often consisted of ripping out Zim's organs, but that made sense. I had_ nothing_ to do with Zim.

So why was I having . . . _those_ kinds of dreams about him?

True, nothing terribly intimate had happened. But I have to admit that it was . . . nice, comfortable, before I knew who it was touching me. Zim and I had never been friends. I imagined by now, if I could remember, I would hate him (not to say I didn't already just out of principle, but by now I would have a legitimate reason) and he probably just liked speaking to me to piss me off but that was hardly a relationship! I shouldn't be having . . . _dreams_ about him, let alone dreams where I needed his assistance to do something so simple as _moving_.

I didn't need anyone to help me do _anything_, let alone someone as incompetent as _Zim_. I ran my hand thrown my hair and then shuddered, remembering my minds imagination a his hand doing the same. I recalled the vivid feel of his gloves on my arm and pictured them in my head, trying to figure out my subconscious's appeal.

To be fair, Zim wasn't hideous. Were he not so insane and did not have the reputation of fighting with my brother on a daily basis, I'm sure he'd have a few girls hounding for his affections. However, I was not that kind of girl and I _definitely_ wasn't the kind of girl to start day-dreaming about anyone.

I huffed, irritated. This was getting me nowhere.

"It was just a dream, Gaz," I hissed to myself, my frustration pouring into my voice. "Stop worrying so much about it."

Despite my words, I was still uneasy. I sighed, turning my attention to the clock next to my bed. The digital device informed me that it was ten minutes past 3am.

Well, so much for sleeping in.

I doubted I was going to get much more sleep now. If I fell asleep again that would risk more dreaming, like those dreams, and what if they were worse? I had never been a paranoid person. But this was just one thing on top of a million somethings I was dealing with already that I just did _not need_. So I laid myself back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

I had the feeling this was going to be the beginning of something bad.

Needless to say, I was more right then I could ever know.

* * *

Are all these ominous for-warnings getting annoying?

Well, don't worry, real action happens in the chapter after the next. I've set the stage.

Now I get to play on it! :D

FINALLY!

Hope you liked this chapter! And I will not answer any questions about Gaz's dreams. I will only tell you that, positively, **no, it was not a memory.**

Till the next chapter!


	9. Breaking and Entering

You should all know that if there's even the mention of illegal activities with me, you should get excited.

**"All of my dreams are all I see  
Try not to wake me, let me be . . ."  
-Trapped by Dead By April**

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 9  
"Breaking and Entering"**

I didn't tell anyone.

But it happened.

Every night, I had a dream about Zim. Or, at least, it would end with him. When I finally fell back asleep my dream was mostly devoid of sense and then I saw him again, laughing, and I was happy and then I woke up. Sunday night it happened again. When I woke up Monday I was already in no mood and not looking forward to seeing the objection of my irritation. I already had my fill of Zim from my dreams (that unfortunately, despite my wishes, were not nightmares). I didn't need to see him in person.

Too bad nobody cared.

Thank Bloaty's for my Gameslave, or I would have to be paying attention to the world all day. Dib's gift was paying off more then he would ever know. My eyes were glued to the screen the whole way to Skool. Dib did not bother me. Nothing bothered me. Not even when I was on campus. I didn't even bother getting my backpack. My teachers knew better then to try to talk to me when I was in the zone.

The game was of a basic plot, but with enough twists to keep you on your toes. According to the beginning monologue, this alternate dimension was under a dictatorship, in which the player was a part of the resistance. There were three characters, each of whose story you had to play, so it was like three games in one. Which was good, because that gauranteed I wouldn't finish the thing before the week was over and I had time to drag this out until I had formulated some type of plan besides avoiding the problem.

Nothing was going to break my concentration.

I should've known better than to think today would go according to plan.

Apparently, my reputation didn't carry over into the ring of substitutes.

We just happened to get one in the one class I needed it in.

There were footsteps entering the classroom, signaling the teacher's entrance. With my peripheral awareness, I sensed everyone in the room cringe and freeze up, including the bravado-filled alien beside me. But still, I didn't move. I was just about to concur a mini-battle and nothing was going to break my focus.

"Alright you little brats, everyone sit down and _be quiet_!"

I froze. I knew that voice!

"Oh,_ Ms. Membrane, _why am I not surprised?"

My eyes shot, wide, completely stunned. She was within five inches of my face, glaring me down with a look that rivaled my own monotonous expression, the light but severe venom very clear in her black, beady little eyes that were hidden behind her glasses. Everything about me was frozen from the shock-value.

I had to hand it to life. I can't say I expected _this_ turn of events when I woke up this morning.

My game made a low, melodic beeping noise, signaling I had just lost.

"Ms. Membrane," She hissed, in that gravelly, snake-like tone of voice she had, back hunched more then usual to be level with my face. I could learn a lot from this woman. "Are you aware game devices are not allowed in Skool?"

"I, uh-." My mouth was too dry to react. Then I shook my head, clearing my throat and snapping out of it.

"Of course you were!" She interrupted. "So I'll just be confiscating this, as I'm sure you know would happen."

And I couldn't believe what happened next.

She took it from me. She _took_ my _game_! My hand clutched the air a fraction of a second too late. She had it in her hands, retreating from me and slipping it in her desk in one fluid, shadowy movement. In the next she had a key out, locking it inside the drawer before I could blink.

* * *

For a moment, everything was still.

And then she was standing up, her heels on the ring that circled the bottom of the chair and had her hands slammed down on the table, startling everyone around her. Even I, the Almighty Zim, jumped in surprise at the movement that happened in a fraction of a second. I brought myself to look at her eyes, the fire in them incredibly unnerving. Humans were never intimidating to me though.

The nearly inhuman shriek that came forth from her mouth immediately afterwords made me reconsider.

"Young lady!" Mrs. Bitters snapped, spinning around and pointed a jagged, nailed, withered finger at her. "You will not make such noises in my classroom!"

No one had ever back-talked to Mrs. Bitters. In the years she had been a teacher, till the moment she had retired to become a substitute, no one had ever challenged this demonic old woman who once had the honor of teaching _Zim_. I knew immediately this would be a legend in the making. I was also aware thought that if I had to bet on anyone challenging Mrs. Bitters, it would be this female.

And if I had to bet on a winner, I would bet on this insane little girl.

"You _took_," Gaz growled. "My _game_."

"Your _point_?" Mrs. Bitters hissed, in a manner that clearly expressed she did not like this display challenging her authority.

I looked down to see Gaz's hands, now clutching the table instead of a game console, holding on so tightly her hands were shaking and her already pale skin began to turn completely white. I was positive she could blend in with that strange _snow_ now.

Gaz's head tilted forward just slightly, looking menacingly up at the old woman with golden, flame-filled eyes.

"Give it back." She ordered. "_Now_."

Mrs. Bitters snorted. "Or what?"

Gaz's eyes narrowed.

* * *

I thought of every terrible, horrible thing I could do to this woman, the Skool, the District, and anyone else who got in the way of my retrieving what rightfully belonged to me.

Yet none of them seemed quite as terrible enough.

And Mrs. Bitters wasn't a patient person.

"That's what I thought," She scoffed, turning away from me. "You'll get it at the end of the year."

Insensible with rage, I sat back down. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, waiting for something to be set ablaze or explode, no doubt. I wasn't so sure that something wouldn't, as this was a science room and I had an uncanny ability of causing destruction. The most noticeable stare though was the one person beside me whose gaze I no longer had a reason for ignoring. Whose eyes I had already seen this weekend. Whose entire image had bothered me all weekend.

The one person I wasn't quite sure I could handle at such a stressful time like this.

"Are you . . . Are you _shaking_?"

I looked down to find that, in fact, I was. I could feel the cold chill of withdrawal coming over me, my fingers twitching. The sound of that low beeping, the sound of my loss, now filled me with terror and haunted me. The game was still running. Lucky I paused it after every period, but still. I was going to lose work, time, all because of this _horrible_ old woman!

"Yes," I said, quickly, with a jerk of my head, not quite having my wits about me. I shook my head, blinking repeatedly. From the corner of my eye I could see Zim giving me a wary, questioning look, leaning slightly away from me. I couldn't blame him. If he wasn't careful, he might get my misdirected fury.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stifle the shivers. Mrs. Bitters was talking, but I wasn't aware of a word that she-devil was saying. Ironic that I was calling another woman the very names I myself had been called so many times. But I wasn't afraid, I was furious and unnerved all at the same time. I wondered if this was at all similar to how other people felt when dealing with me.

I very much doubted anyone had ever felt like I did right now.

". . . Are you cold?"

"Are you only full of questions!" I snapped back, hissing in a whispered tone, staring at the table, refusing to look at him. I couldn't meet his gaze. It was humiliating but I just couldn't handle this right now. Not without my game.

My game.

I needed my game!

_No, **first**_, my eyes looked up, my eyes locking onto the desk, _I needed that **key**_.

Or a crowbar.

But this would just be more fun.

I began to shake my head, to answer Zim's question. Then I slowed to a stop, surprised at just how freezing I was. The ice was in my veins, chilling me to the core. I imagined this was what a drug-addict at experiencing the first taste of withdrawal felt. I pulled my coat from my bag, slipping it on over my arms, holding my arms tightly around myself. It still didn't help. The cold was just that deep.

I had just begun swearing under my breath when I felt something incredibly warm draped around my shoulders. Or maybe 'draped' isn't the right word. _Dropped_ on my shoulders was probably a better word for it. I looked up at the red, heavy material, at once feeling injustice that boys' coats were so much warmer then the girls. However that injustice was quickly replaced by confusion as I shook it off, giving Zim a questioning look.

He shrugged, "I need an excuse to get a new coat anyways."

"I'm not going to keep it," I pointed out, removing my flimsy black coat and jacket, slipping my arm's through Zim's much warmer one and pulling the sleeves back a little, so that my hands weren't drowning in them. "You don't need to buy a whole new outfit."

He scoffed, eying me with disgust. "Well it's not like I'm going to wear it after _you_ have. It'll catch all your filthy, human-germs on it."

I scowled at him, daring him to test me further, but he backed off at once. I continued anyways. "What's wrong with the coat anyways?"

He gestured to his arms, which were now only covered by a white, button-up shirt. I was surprised to note that while Zim was thin, he had muscle. I had no doubt in a _real_ match between Zim and my brother, if Zim was properly motivated, he could definitely beat my brother in strength. The only thing probably keeping them even was how freaking quick my brother was. I have to admit, sometimes even I had trouble finding and catching him when I was so inclined to do so.

"It's too big," He stated, plainly. Then he scoffed again, his chin resting boredly in his hand. "Stupid Skool system can't even get a size right."

"Why didn't you just go get it tailored?" I questioned, my brow rising.

Zim's eyes widened and I knew the idea had never occurred to him until now. Then he shot me a deadly look, irritated. "I didn't want to, that's why!"

"Zim!"

We both turned our attention back to the new bane of my existence, my lip curling back and Zim standing at attention.

"Sir!" He shouted, sitting erect.

Mrs. Bitters eyes narrowed. "If you're _done_ talking to Ms. Membrane, might you be so kind as to answer this question?"

He directed his attention to the board. "The number contains 3 Sig Figs."

She growled, clearly irritated. "Correct. But keep your mouth shut. You won't be so lucky next time."

"Yes, sir." He agreed, sitting at attention.

But I wasn't about to be cooperative to Ms. Bitters. I pulled out a sheet of paper, scribbling in my quick, neat script and sliding it across to Zim, looking forward immediately afterwords, like I wasn't doing anything. I saw Zim's brow rise, but he took the paper before him, examining it as Ms. Bitters continued her lecture on mathematics in science.

I heard his writing, surprised to hear his hand moving much faster then my own. I got it back within seconds and glanced down, noting the sharp writing he had. Much more jagged (and somehow threatening, though I would never tell him that) then the average blocky, human script.

I saw my question, comparing it to his handwriting. Mine was more elegant then his. More calligraphy-like.

_Why did you give me your jacket?_ It read. I glanced down to his answer.

_Because I didn't want to hear you shivering and cursing the rest of the class period. By the way, check your hands to see if you've made new wounds or your old one opened. You smell like blood again._

I smirked, writing my answer in reply.

_That's not injury blood, _I wrote, sliding it back, watching his face to gauge how he'd react to that.

I saw his face contort in confusion, looking at me questioningly. I had wiped the smirk off my face, waiting, but it seemed he wasn't going to get it. So to help I looked down, purposefully, then back up at him. Slowly, much to my enjoyment, I saw his eyes widened as my meaning dawned on him. He quickly jotted down his reply, sliding it back to me, a look of disgust on his face.

_You humans and your DISGUSTING reproductive organs. _He'd written. _Great. I'm just going to have to smell this the rest of class! Ugh! And your brother wonders why I stay away from the general population . . .  
_

I replied quickly, my retort immediate.

_I thought you were just anti-social._

_Well that too. Out of curiosity, what are you going to do about your game?_

My brow rose but then I shrugged, inwardly. If anyone was going to look forward to some type of human-to-human confrontation, it would be Zim. If I were in his situation, I would wonder how this would turn out as well.

_I've got a plan. I'll have my game back by tomorrow._

"_Hm_," He murmured_, _thoughtfully. "That'll certainly be interesting to watch."

"You've got no idea," I replied under my breath, smirking to myself.

Yes, I had a plan. I definitely had a plan.

And no devil-teacher of my brother's was going to stand in the way of that plan.

* * *

I should've expect that after Gaz had been acting so weird for the past couple of days, something bad would happen Monday. There was no way I could've anticipated, though, that I would be lied to.

"Hey, Gaz," I greeted, as I approached her from her locker. "How'd Skool go today?"

"Fine," She stated, bluntly. "I have practice again, today, after Skool, but I forgot. I need to go home and grab my stuff real quick before I come back, okay?"

I nodded, "Sure. You need me to drive you back?"

"No, I'll drive myself. I don't know when it ends." She replied.

I should've known something was up when she didn't look me in the eyes. If I'd have paid more attention I might've seen her hands twitching, but I didn't.

There are consequences that are paid when you don't pay attention.

I was about to find that out very soon.

* * *

The ride home seemed to take forever. Dib had barely parked his car before I was out of it, slipping my key in the lock and heading upstairs in one movement.

I would need a few things for this kind of plan to be carried out.

Dib suspected nothing. Sometimes his ignorance paid off instead of just being annoying.

I grabbed a duffel-bag, shoving the necessary items inside. I would need to change in the car, so that Dib wouldn't suspect anything. A hooded jacket, some flexible jeans and gloves. Leather ones. Cotton was too messy, leather allowed for easier and more precise movement. I slipped on some shorts and a t-shirt, to go for the whole 'soccer practice' story. Dib's idea was really paying off for me.

I was glad that I had short hair, otherwise I would need to put it up in a ponytail. After placing the appropriate items inside, even batteries to replace the ones that would no doubt be low by now in my game, since it had never been shut off, I zipped the bag shut and slung it over my shoulder, grabbing my keys off the desk before walking quickly down the stairs, nearly taking them two at a time.

"Have fun at practice, Gaz!" Dib called to me.

I just grunted a reply, acknowledging that he'd spoken, before darting into the garage to retrieve my car. I threw it into the passenger seat, starting the car and skidding out in a smooth movement. This would all need to be done quickly, but I would have to drive around a while before everyone who lingered on campus was gone. It didn't normally take long, half an hour on an assembly day. The drive was ten minutes and it had taken me about five to pack and change my clothes. I was set with determination to get back what was mine.

This was certainly going to be humiliating for the Skool when they found their confiscated items had been stolen.

Now this is what I was thinking: Ms. Bitters liked to keep her 'prizes', so to speak. Not even our teacher could give back an item once confiscated. No doubt Ms. Bitters had turned in the paperwork already yet declined to hand my game over to the office. Which meant it was still in the drawer, waiting for me at the end of the year.

Except I had no intention of waiting that long.

I pulled up two blocks away from the Skool, parking next to the park. Just another unnoticed car and just another unnoticed girl with a duffel-bag, walking through to probably go meet members of her sports team. No one even glanced my way. I didn't recognize anyone either. I cut through the back into the Skool, slipping out back.

From there it was a waiting game.

It was warmer then usual that day. I didn't really know why, it just was. The snow had melted, but the grass was just a little spongy. Nothing especial like you'd expect. It didn't take long for everyone to clear out. I noted the last of the campus-rats clear out ten minutes after my arrival, which irritated me. I didn't know why they chose today of all days to hang out longer then they normally did.

"Time to go in," I muttered, pulling on the hoodie in my bag. One would think I'd be more careful then to change in the woods behind our Skool, but I didn't care. Besides, no one ever went back here. I took off my shorts, shoving my feet through my jeans. I slipped my gloves on, pulling the hood over my head and darting forward, across the field. It wasn't inconspicuous, I'll admit, but this place wasn't exactly built for easy-sneaky-access.

After a quick darting inside the bathroom, there was the real waiting game: waiting until the teachers took off. Granted, the teachers never stayed longer then necessary, but this was all depending on how the day went. I did the general math in my head: no assemblies or emergency-drills meant no one had to stay extra to make-up for time lost in grading, etc. So that probably meant about an hours wait. Which would've been no problem if I'd had my game, but, obviously, I wouldn't _be_ in this situation if I did.

I had, however, come prepared for the lengthy wait.

After situating myself probably on the top of a toiler seat (not the actual _seat-_seat, but the part connected to the wall, the name of which I don't care to know) I pulled out a book. Yes, a book. One that I had to catch up on for English, since I'd been absent so many days. My teacher was only going to allow me so much time to make-up the tests that I had missed and for that, I needed to actually know what material I was working with.

The book was stupid and boring, filled with racism and definitely not something I would read if I wasn't being forced to (as is the case with most required-reading books . . .) but it managed to kill time. I had gotten to the minor plot twist (that I saw coming a mile away) when I heard the janitor coming down the hallway to check the stalls.

Alright. Time to move into action.

He was checking/cleaning the ones next door first. He always did. One had to know the habits of the janitors when you often broke in to retrive something you'd forgotten in your locker and needed. Dib didn't normally approve of this but since he often benefited from my little skill, he was forced to keep his oppinions to himself.

Out from my bag I pulled super glue. But not just any super glue, my _father's_ version of super glue; guaranteed to stick no matter what. They were currently using it to try and build houses in places with chaotic weather. With a muffled snap, I ripped the hook for coats on the inside stall door off, placed a thin line of glue all along the back of it (more then enough to get it to stick) and carefully held it back in place, careful not to get any on my fingers. I waited patiently, my ears constantly alert for any sign of the janitor finishing. After about a minute though, I released my hold on the hook and jerked at it.

It didn't even kind of move.

Now came the hard part. This all depended on how much upper-body strength I had. I was agile and quick but strength . . . I could do it. I was sure I could do it. And if I couldn't, I didn't have a Plan B. This _had_ to work.

I heard the janitor sneeze, wipe his nose loudly and then the tell-tale sound of wheels heading my way.

With a swift movement I tossed the bag over my shoulder, gripped the (mercifully) large hook with my hand and stepped off the toilet, waiting for the snap. Thankfully, it never came, and I and my items were securely dangling in midair, with the door ajar enough to look like no one was inside. 'Cleaning' to the janitor meant peeking inside, looking around a little, sneezing, and then leaving to go 'clean' somewhere else. The only legitimate cleaning he did in the bathrooms was if someone had vomited.

I heard him sneeze again. I hardly breathed, not nervuos, but the strain of keeping myself and my supplies up in my condition certainly wasn't as easy as I had thought. I waited.

Luck was on my side.

He went into the stalls, the one farthest from mine and I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper. He had to go to the bathroom.

I dropped, soundlessly, to the floor, careful to slip past the door without moving it. I spotted what I wanted immediately, the keys to the building, hanging carelessly next to the brooms on his cart, looking like it was about to fall off. I slipped of the master key, knowing it by the engraving and darted off without a sound. He wouldn't miss it anyways.

And now I had free access to the building.


	10. Flames Designed for Demise

You should also know I am a pyro and almost all of my stories involve fire, at some point or another. :D

**"No,  
You'll never be alone  
When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars  
Hear the whispers in the dark . . ."  
-Whispers in the Dark by Skillet**

WOO! Long chapter time! I would have you all know that I am now drawing things, since I have yet to recieve fanart (_hint hint, nudge,_**_ kick_**). Currently, I've made a surprisingly decent drawing of my versions of Gaz and Zim in a still frame of a scene in a later chapter. I will upload said picture and send it to you when that scene arrises.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 10  
"Flames Designed for Demise"**

I ran.

It wasn't loud, in fact, it was quite soundless. My goal, my science room, was on the third story of the Skool. I took the stairs two at a time, easily, a small sneer creeping up on my face. But I resisted the urge for a full-out grin, as my job wasn't done yet. Far from it. I still needed to pick the lock in the drawer, as I hadn't been able to come up with a way to steal the real key from Mrs. Bitters. But these locks were easy to pick, as I had learned from experience. My record was 7 seconds.

I reached the top of the stairs, pausing to listen in case any teachers had lingered. By the time the janitor made rounds, everyone had cleared out, but now was not the time to get arrogant. If Mrs. Bitters or anyone else caught me sneaking around with a master key and a bag of who-knows-what . . . well, it didn't take a genius to figure out how much trouble I would be in.

After waiting a solid minute hiding in the shadows of the snack machine, I deemed it safe to proceed and continued onwards, pausing just before every door to listen. Because of my precaution it took me ten minutes to reach my classroom, but I considered it time well-spent. I wasn't about to be caught on my mission to humiliate the Skool by taking something that had been confiscated. True, it didn't seem like much of a thing to do, but in a Skool where discipline was advertised, it would certainly be more than enough of a setback for them.

And I was always happy to help throw something into chaos or withdrawals.

My classroom door was locked but with the master key in my possession, it was nothing of particular concern. The door was open with a simple twist and then I was inside, my bag still in place, securely, over my shoulder. I locked it behind me, not willing to risk flicking the lights on and removing my flashlight. In a moment I was able to see clearer and did a quick scan of the area, ensuring there were no booby-traps waiting for me. It was unlikely but you could never be too careful when you were doing something you shouldn't be.

After assuring myself I wasn't in any immediate danger I made my way to my goal: the drawer that held my precious game. I knelt before it, placing my bag gingerly on the floor beside me. I put the mini (but powerful) flashlight in my mouth, retrieving my lock-pick with a inward grin of triumph. I placed the flashlight on the chair, so that my hands could be free, angling it towards the lock with expert precision.

I had just popped it open when I heard shouting and footsteps.

With a quick movement I threw the lock-pick in my back, snatched up my flashlight and dug through the drawer. As expected, I found my game, still on and waiting for me to continue, with a dangerously low battery. I saved it with a flick of my finger, shut it off and shoved it into my bag and darted into the closet, leaving the door open a crack. This all happened within seconds and the footsteps were still approaching rapidly, the shouting confusing me. The only logical explanation I could make was that the janitor had discovered his lost key and called for back-up to try and find it before it got into the wrong hands.

Well, it was a little late for that.

I froze.

The key.

I'd left it on the desk.

Peering through the crack I could just make it out in the dark, sitting their, innocently. The footsteps had stopped outside the door, the voice muffled, distorted and unrecognizable. I couldn't risk going to retrieve it so I sat there, glad that I had thought to lock the door behind me. With any luck they wouldn't be able to get inside and I would remain unnoticed.

Someone banged on the door, my hand clamping over my mouth to keep an sound from escaping. I wasn't one to scream but precautions needed to be taken in this kind of situation. They called, demanding to know if anyone was inside. There was another voice, probably insisting they move on, which they did. My face contorted in confusion though as I heard their voices fade, along with their pounding footsteps. I slipped, uncaringly, from the closet, snatching the key up and placing my back on the desk, organizing everything properly. I couldn't be sure, but those voices had sounded very young.

I shrugged, thinking nothing of it. Probably just the new, younger teachers running around. Obviously the older ones couldn't be of any use if they were really searching for the key.

It took all of about five minutes to get my chaotic mess of a bag back into proper shape. I adjusted the strap, as it had gotten loose in my haste and pronounced myself deamable to move. I pulled the hood over my head again, which had fallen off when I'd darted into the closet and went to the door, to unlock it. That's when my nose picked up the smell.

I paused, looking around, sniffing the air. Something smelled bitter, burnt. As this was a science room, I didn't think anything of it for a moment.

Until I remembered we hadn't done any labs today.

And the smell was fresh.

I darted to the window before I knew what I was doing, nearly tearing the curtains down to gain view of the Skool below me. I threw the window open, just in time to get a fresh filter of smoke pass into my lungs. My eyes teared up and I coughed, violently, looking up just in time to hear a faint screech as a van peeled away at a high speed, cheers going up from inside. If the words hadn't been so clearly painted on the car, I would have never understood in time.

"Protestors?" I coughed, before I could make sense of the word.

And then I understood. The angry-mob of teenagers that had rampaged through the town, the reports of the violence and chaos getting worse. I understood completely, surprised no one had thought of it before, impressed that _they_ had. The teenagers protesting the District. They needed to make a statement, too, since nothing had worked yet.

What better way to do that then burn down the very thing that gave the District the upper hand?

That was when the flames shot up the tree next to the window, the heat flooding the room and the flames licking just a little too close for comfort.

"_SHIT_!"

The word was out of my mouth before I knew it. I stumbled backwards, snatching up my bag and the key, running to the door. Though I didn't bother with the key, kicking down the weak, unsupported door easily. It wasn't like it mattered how much destruction I caused now anyways. In a minute this whole thing would be ash.

I intended to be very far away by the time that happened.

I heard shouting and headed towards it, instinctively. It was the janitor. If anyone knew how to get out of the Skool it was him and I was more then willing to get into a little trouble if it meant keeping me from being burnt to a crisp.

Whatever these kids had used, it was good. I had barely gotten two the second story, my feet barely on one step before it was on the next, skipping most of them, when I heard the shouting again. The janitor burst from a room, flames licking at his heels, slamming the door shut behind him and trapping the fire inside, for the moment.

We locked eyes, me right in front of him, both of us breathing heavily.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, then shook his head. "Never mind, move!"

And then I was running down the stairs again, this time with a companion next to me.

"They set it on the second story." He stated, through his heavy breathing. "I saw them do it. They set my cart on fire and the chemical cleaners-!"

Before he could say another word, the door exploded, sending us to the ground, hard. We tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs, my bag landing on top of me. I grunted, forcing myself to my feet. He did the same. I understood why they'd started where they had. Starting at the bottom or top would mean that the fire would have to carry up or down two whole stories before consuming the whole building. Starting in the center meant it had immediate access to both. Whoever these kids were, I wanted to congratulate them for their expertise in destruction.

Right after I beat the tar out of them for doing it while I was still in the building.

"This way," The janitor coughed out, pointing down the hallway. I followed, without a single argument. I knew better then to argue for a different route.

Our Skool was like a maze, centered around the opening in the middle. New students always got lost and even second, third and fourth years had trouble finding their classes and their way around the campus sometimes. You could get lost in a heartbeat and with mine going at a million beats per second, I was in no condition to make any rational decisions. And, like I said, the janitor had to know this place by heart by now. If anyone knew how to get around the maze of a campus, any shortcut we could take, it was him. For once, I was going to have to depend on someone else.

I couldn't care less, at the moment, so long as I got out of here alive. I couldn't say 'unhamred' exactly, because my ribs and back were already aching from the fall, as were the sides of my arms and legs. Thankfully my head was fine but this fire was spreading fast and the smoke was making both of us cough. We never stopped running though. We couldn't stop or we'd probably end up with third-degree burns or dead and we both knew it.

I noticed we stayed out in the open a lot and figured out why. My brain kept rationalizing every move the janitor made, like it needed to make sense of something or was just keeping tabs on him, to make sure he wasn't leading me to my death. It very well could have been both. But I knew that with the fire, the building was weak. If any part of it gave out while we were under it, we would be crushed under two-stories of building and be killed instantly. Yet the roofing wasn't entirely avoidable and we did run through hallways, often. It felt like forever of running but I soon saw the exit, a sense of relief washing through me as I recognized the forest at the end of the long hallway. I could even see the flashing red lights of firefighter cars, no doubt just arriving on the scene. This would all be over in a minute.

The janitor was in front of me and or I wouldn't have seen it.

I skidded to a halt, taking steps backwards.

"Watch out!" I shouted, feeling like I owed it to him to warn him. "The roof!"

He didn't even look up and sensibly just threw himself forward, dodging the collapsing amount of roof. The burning pieces fell where he had just been and it was at that moment I realized it, seeing the naked fear and panic in his eyes as he lay on his backside, propped up on his elbows. I froze, mouth agape, trying to force myself to remain calm and struggling to do so.

Because now, I was blocked into the building.

And I didn't know another way out.

"S-STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" The janitor shouted, jumping to his feet. "I'LL GO GET HELP!"

I couldn't have moved if I wanted to. I had never seen anyone run so fast, even if he _was_ stumbling while doing so. He was out of the building within seconds, his black coughs echoing back towards me. I shook my head, taking deep breaths and then regretting it instantly as my throat and chest burned, smoke filling them.

The roof ached again.

I turned and ran.

* * *

It was all over the news and I watched, amazed. Everyone had made the assumption it was the protestors and I had no doubt it was.

I pulled out my phone, dialing for Gaz. She said she had practice today and while she was outside in the field, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. You could never be too careful.

She picked up on the second ring.

My blood went cold as coughing was my answer.

"Gaz?" I shouted, immediately. Granted, if I was wrong, she was going to kill me for yelling at her, but that was fine with me so long as I knew she was alright. "Gaz, are you okay?"

"Dib-!" She broke into a fit of coughs.

"Gaz, are you at the Skool?" I shouted. I hadn't even realized I was heading towards my car before I realized my keys were in my hand and I was running towards the garage. "Gaz!"

"I (cough) I had to get it back!" She shouted, over the roar of what I could only assume were flames. "I had to (cough) I had to get it back Dib!"

"Get _what_ back?" I demanded, confused, fumbling to open the doors with my key, nearly backing out into the garage door. It was opening painfully slow, as if to taunt me.

"The-!"

Something crumbled, I heard her let out a shout of surprise, then something cracked and the line went dead.

"Gaz?" I shouted, at the phone. I had no doubt that my whole neighborhood then heard me as I shrieked, "_**GAZ**_?"

But, of course, the line was dead, so I got no reply.

I cleared the garage and was gunning it, dialing instinctively, only aware of who I was calling when the voice answered, on speaker-phone, at the other end.

It was impatient, "_Yes? What is it?_"

"Shut up and listen!" I ordered, speaking before I got a scream of fury in reply. "The Skools on fire-."

"_Yes I **know** that! What do you think **I** care for?_" They snapped back, testily.

I growled, but the sound was naerly drowned out over my car's engine, the car itself speeding towards the Skool.

"Gaz is _inside the building_," I retorted, venom and fury in my voice. If I wasn't so panicky, I might've been scared of it. But I didn't have time to be scared. I needed to save my sister.

There was silence on the other end.

Then the line went dead.

I let out a shriek of fury. How many times was I just going to get a dead line today?

I wasn't sure how many red-lights I ran. I couldn't be positive how many people I had almost run over in my refusal to let a j-walker or pedestrian cross in front of me. Hell, I couldn't be sure I didn't hit someone. I had several police cars following me, demanding I pull over, but I couldn't care less at the moment, which was surprising in itself, because I was normally very careful about not breaing the law, especially while I was driving. Besides, they all turned off their lights as soon as I pulled up, across the street from the Skool, where a crowd was already gathering. I wasn't sure if they didn't know what had happened and they were just in shock, or they were never chasing me in the first place, both of us just having the same destination. However it didn't matter, as the sight before us was both terrifying and glorious.

The whole building was on fire. It might as well have been a torch, glowing in the darkness and lighting the way for the city to come observe it in its terrifying grace.

But all I could think was that somewhere in that firy glory, was my sister.

"**GAZ!**"

* * *

"Dib!"

It was useless to scream at the rubble covering my phone, I knew that. But I couldn't know what else to do. I was completely stupefied. Another dangerous creak of the roof was all the instruction I needed of what to do next.

Forcing myself to my feet once more (having been forced to dive out of the way to avoid being crushed _again_), I turned tale and ran, hoping I was going the right way. I couldn't count on the janitor being able to lead the fireman past the rubble to find me. If I was going to get out of here uncharred, I was going to have to use my own wit, which was in short supply, especially since there wasn't a lot of oxygen getting to my brain.

_Damn_ this Skool and its mainly indoor campus!

Upon breaking free of the hallway, mostly unharmed, save for a few bruises I was positive to have in the morning, if I made it to the next morning-

_Positive thoughts, Gaz, positive, helpful thoughts,_ I insisted to myself, forcing my natural pessimism away for the moment. Being indifferent wasn't going to keep me alive, instinct and action were.

There was no going to the roof, that much I knew. The fire on the second story prevented me from even making an attempt back towards the staircase. I wished I had paid more attention to our campus now, trying to figure out some escape route as I kept to the outside corridors, forcing back the panic threatening to rise in my chest, replacing it with determined frustration. Determination got me somewhere. Blind panic would only get me face-to-face with a wall of flame. Not that this tactic of running was really getting me anywhere, either. I knew that eventually, I was going to run ou of room to run.

And then what?

"Shit!" I hissed, for the thousandth time now, my head whipping back and forth faster then it should, making me a little light-headed. Or maybe it was just the effect of the smoke, depriving my lungs of fresh oxygen, "Shit, shit, shit, shit!"

The mantra went on, continuously, but I didn't notice nor care to watch my mouth at a time like this. I skidded to a halt just in time as another part of the building collapsed on itself. I was about to change direction and run again when something caught my eye, making me pause. Hesitating wasn't something I should be doing at a time like this, but instinct told me to look again and as I was devoid of most rationalization at this point, instict was all I had to run on.

And I was glad that I did.

The rubble had dampered part of the fire, leaving a clear path upwards, towards a very large pile of rubble. I looked around, knowing full-well that said pile probably wasn't very stable and that it too could go up in smoke at any minute. But a quick look around and the feel of the ever-growing heat made me decide it was better then staying here.

I darted up the rubble, my bad suddenly weightless as adrenaline pumped through my veins. I thought I might've been sweaty, but I was suddenly aware that I really wasn't. Granted, I didn't sweat very easily. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I'd broken a sweat but still. You'd think I would with how damn _hot_ everything around me was-!

_Neccesary though only_, I ordered myself, as I just barely moved quick enough to avoid a bit of the rubble from disentigrating from underneath me. I shook off the panic once more, continuing my ascent up the wreckage, some of it blazing, making me nervous. But I reasoned if it wasn't on fire now, this probably didn't burn very easily and I might have enough time to come up with a new plan when I had a view and a general idea of where everything was below me and just how much of it was on fire. If I was lucky, I might even be able to find an exit route on my own. With height grew my optimism.

It seemed I had used up all my luck for today.

I had just made it to the top, a sigh of relief escaping from my lips, when a groan made me freeze and look down, refusing to shift my weight, lest the 'floor' give way beneath me. I barely let my head angle down, watching as the rubble bent forwards beneath me. A quick glance at my surroundings informed me I was maybe as high up as the second floor, possible the third, if I wanted to push it. I was immediately aware if I fell from this height, it was likely I was going to break something. And then I wouldn't be able to run from anything, fire, collapsing building or otherwise.

I shifted my bag towards the back, trying to even the weight out. It worked, for a moment, but the heat was curling whatever I was standing on, making it weaker. I began crawling backwards when an especial heat tickled my neck and I spun around, eyes wide.

I had been wrong. The fire took its time, but it made its way onto whatever I was supporting myself on. I refused to scream. If there was anything Gaz Membrane did not do, it was let out shrill, girlish shrieks. It would've been entirely justified, but I refused to do it nonetheless. If I was going to die I was going to die with my dignity intact.

So I had two choices; on the one hand, I could give up and let myself be burned alive now. Not exactly appealing. On the other, I could let myself fall the ten-plus odd feet and hope that the fall killed me. The downside of that option was that if it didn't, I was going to be immobile, in pain and then be burned alive. These weren't exactly appealing options.

And it seemed I wouldn't even get to make that choice as the 'floor' groaned one last time before slamming downwards, losing two or three feet, making it very clear the whole thing was about to collapse.

With me right at the top of it.

'Shit' was suddenly no longer an appropriate enough word for what I needed to scream.

* * *

*There were about three people holding him back from running inside the building. He made a very large scene, one that had news-reporters all over him, as well as the authorities trying to calm him down. Of course Dr. Membrane was nowhere in sight.

Everyone knew the situation by now. Some 'anonymous' girl was inside, but now, with Dib so clearly freaking out in front of everyone and his sister nowhere in sight, it became very clear who was running for their life inside.

Firefighters were already trying to put out the fires, but it wasn't quick enough. Everyone could see that it wasn't going to be quick enough. Dib had fallen to his knees screaming, fightining rather violently, tears streaming from his face. But after a good ten seconds of this, he caught sight of it. The one thing that could help.

If he just stopped drawing so much attention to himself and backed off, letting the firefighters take the concern of the cameras instead of the family member on scene having a panic attack.

He could do that.

Of course he could.

And it worked. After he lay huddled to the floor, no one paid anymore attention to him, just the glorious haze of the fire that may or may not have already taken someone's life. They were so consumed by the view then, that nobody noticed until it was far too late the sight of a trench coat, darting past everyone, right into the fire and disappearing within.

Nobody noticed.

Not until it was too late to follow.

So now it wasn't up to the firefighters anymore. It was up to _him_.

* * *

Another slam sent me several more feet downwards and my jaw ached, my teeth having slammed together in my effort to brace myself. I was pretty sure my tongue was bleeding too, from having bitten it, but that was the least of my concerns right now.

The good news was that the more the rubble beneath deteriorated, the less the fall was and the more likely I would get out of it unharmed, able to run just a little more. To survive until I could come up with a plan.

The _bad_ news was that the longer I waited, letting the pile get shorter and shorter, the closer the fire got. And the closer the fire got meant the less time I'd have to run/come up with a plan before the flames were upon me. Because if there was one thing I knew now was that if the fire caught me, there wasn't any back-up that was going to save me.

It got about three yards away from me, leaving me about 8 feet above the ground, before I decided this was as long as I was willing to hold out. My hand securely on the bag (I honestly can't say why I didn't just ditch it in the first place; like I said, irritational thought-process) strap over my shoulder, I made my way carefully to the edge of the pile, which was very much like a ledge, looking down at the sight below me. I could see every story, ripped out and stripped, like it was under construction. A flagpole was nearby and I knew where I was.

Unfortunately, that was the middle of the Skool.

I didn't think about that. I made myself not think about that as I felt that slight shudder and knew that in a few minutes, the thing would collapse again. I didn't close my eyes because that would be stupid. In one powerful, adrenaline-filled step I jumped, summersaulting in the air, curling into myself, not possitive of where I was going to land.

I just knew it was over when I felt my back land, solidly, on something, the wind was knocked out of me, and I felt myself losing consciousness. The surprising part was that I did not feel fear. In fact, I was kind of releived, because I wouldn't be awake to feel the burning, feel my death. Not that I was afraid of pain, it was just an unnecessary hastle to death. And the best part was, I didn't have to run anymore. I wouldn't wake up tomorrow to feel my injuries. Maybe when I was dead I could figure out everything I'd forgotten and if I couldn't, well, it wouldn't really matter anymore anyways.

I was just about to slip into complete darkness when a chill shot me awake.

To this day I cannot understand what made me suddenly so violently, painfully cold. All I know is that when I sat up, far too quickly, my head aching so much it made that migraine feel like nothing and the general confusion of my 'memories' uncomparable to this shifting haze in my brain, I saw him.

And I couldn't understand why he was there, crouching over me, in a potentially dangerous situation for him if this was anywhere else and I wasn't fairly certain he was trying to save my life.

"Are you alright?" It sounded like an order as he gripped my wrist, forcing me onto my feet. "You fell pretty fast. I didn't know if I was going to be able to catch you."

It was strange how calm I felt, even though we were both still surrounded by fire and I was in no condition to be moving, let alone on my feet. This was only proven as my legs gave way, my knees slamming onto the ground. I was positive it should've been painful, but I couldn't feel my legs anymore. My attention was consumed by that aching fire in my chest and a feeling I recognized. I didn't get any farther then falling to my knees, though, as his arms were on my shoulders, a noise of alarm spewing from his mouth.

That wasn't the only thing about to be spewed.

I couldn't say what I vomited, or what it looked like, how much I vomited or even how long it took. I barely tasted the acidic, bitter taste or after I was done. All I felt were his arms gripping the edges of my sweatshirt and forcing it over my head. I should've taken it off a while ago, but I hadn't had time to think about my choice of clothing. We _still_ probably didn't have time to just be sitting here, wherever 'here' was, since I had no idea where I'd landed.

I heard something tear and then the pocket, I presumbed, was acrossing my mouth, wiping at it. I imagined I looked terrible, pale(r then usual), tired, covered in vomit but I didn't really care. I was just trying to figure out why he was _here_, now that I wasn't spewing all over the ground. When he was done, he used the sleeves to tie the remaining cloth to cover my mouth, like a fiilter mask, keeping out the thick smoke but letting in the clear oxygen. It wasn't much but it was the best that could be done right now. He said as much. I just nodded in reply.

"You can't walk," He stated, simply, as if informing _me_ of my predicament. Like I didn't already know.

But I couldn't formulate any witty remark. I could barely make out his form in front of me, it just kept going haze, the trenchcoat all I was aware of. Why was he wearing that, anyways? Now was hardly the time to adopt a new fashion sense, let alone one similar to-.

"I'm going to carry you," He continued. There wasn't an added word, to question if this was alright with me. It was just a warning, to prepare myself for movement or the fact I was going to be touched.

I just jerked a nod in reply and croaked out, my throat burning, "_Okay_."

With another confirmation nod from him, I was lifted into his arms, one hand under my back and the other under my legs. Automatically my arms made their way around his neck, loosely, my head lolling against his chest. Normally I would be kicking and screaming, demanding to be put down. But I had a feeling the fumes were making me delirious. For all I knew, I could be talking to a wall. And deliriously running through flames (not that I could run anyways) was probably not the best of ideas. With my current luck, I would probably head towards open ground when in reality I was running right towarsd the fire, completely unaware.

Despite this, I couldn't help but struggle to use my voice once more, fighting the darkness once more threatening to overtake me now that I had relaxed considerably and no longer had to move.

"Why-?" But I lost my voice. It barely came out as more then a mumble cough anyways.

He looked down at me, questioningly. "Eh? What did you say?"

Breaking the temporary fit of coughing I wheezed, pulling myself up, closer to him, so he could hear me better. It took considerable effort but I knew in a moment I'd be unconscious anyways, so, I might as well use up the rest of my energy now.

"_Why_," I inhaled, raggedly, but finished, "_Are you helping me?_"

He hesitated, then, to my ever-growing confusion, he smirked at me, wryly.

"Because you asked me to."

The confusion was clear on my face, I was positive of that. I tried to disgaree, form worsd to argue with the statement but I could not. And I didn't have time to try and figure anything else out as that peaceful blackness of unconsciousness finally overcame me. I felt my body go limp, head slumping against his chest. But even still, I fought.

"Zim . . ." I grunted, trying to demand answers. But it seemed all my energy had run out and my eyelids shut, the last of my adrenaline drained and I let myself fade, placing my trust in the hands of an alien boy who hated my brother's guts and who had, just this morning, argued with me.

And who, for some reason, had risked his life to save mine.

* * *

*I'll leave it up for you to decide whose point of view this was from. Maybe just third-person or an observer but I will tell you later!

HA! CLIFFHANGER TIME!

Yes, it's Zim.

DUN DUN DUN!

. . . Or is it? :D

You'll have to figure out where my insane mind is bringing you the next chapter. So, for now, you'll just have to wait.

Till then!


	11. The Truth in the Lies

Mmm, yes, I'm about to mind-fuck all of you! HA!

Yes, you were all squealing at the end of the last chapter, I know you were, don't lie to me!

**"It's like I can't breathe  
It's like I can't see anything  
Nothing but you  
(It's not like I'm)  
I'm addicted _to you_!"  
-Addicted by Kelly Clarkson **

On a possibly interesting note, that song actually inspired a lot of the plot for this story. And another of Kelly Clarkson's songs did too, but that will be posted in the related scene I thought up because of it, like all of the songs at the beginning of the chapters. :)

Also, I HAVE been reading your comments and you're right, I'm stalling. However I'm shoving important shit into those filler-ish chapters so pay attention! Or you can always flow blissfully unaware on the currents of my story before another twist of a wave comes and smashes against you until you figure out how to come up for air again.

HA! Hows THAT for a metaphor?

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 11  
"The Truth in the Lies"**

**_. . . Beep . . . Beep . . . Beep . . ._**

. . . I was going to kill whatever was making that noise . . .

_**. . . Beep . . . Beep . . . Beep . . .**_

Alright seriously, what was that? Why couldn't I feel my . . . my . . . What was I talking about again?

_**. . . Beep . . . Beep . . . Beep . . .**_

Oh yeah, that noise! Weird. I normally wasn't very forgetful . . . Oh, the irony.

_**. . . Beep . . . Beep . . . Beep . . .**_

I heard a groan. I tried to figure out who could've made that noise when I realized that it was probably _me_. Odd that I would find my vocal chords before anything else, but its not like I had control of anything anyways. Which was beyond irritating, since I was someone who liked to know my situation and be able to assess it so I would be prepared for whatever might happen. But it appeared that obviously, I would not be getting my way this time.

"Gaz_?_"

"I think she's waking up."

I recognized both of those voices immediately. However neither of them were the one I expected, which confused me.

"Gaz? You awake?"

A cold chill ripped through me, making me shudder, _hard_. But with it came the return of feeling inside my body and I opened my eyes, a low hiss releasing from between my clenched teeth. I breathed a little heavily from that chill, my eyes darting around the room, ignoring the people staring at me with concern.

White. Sterile. I nearly growled.

I was in a hospital again. And that annoying beeping was coming from the heart monitor that was making sure I was alive. Granted, I should've been grateful for it, but being me and already irritated, I was not.

"How long?" Was my immediate demand, my eyes darting to lock with one of my visitors.

And they knew what I meant immediately, trying to calm me with a slight smile. "Less then twenty four hours. Don't worry. It's still Monday."

I sighed in relief, but noted, from the window (which I suspected the curtains had been casually drawn for the purpose of helping me assess my situation), that it was late in the afternoon. The sky was alive with such a vibrant orange hue that I wondered if this was its natural color, looking more fantastic to me in my weakened state, or the fire somehow attributed to this new coloring.

My eyes widened.

The fire-!

As if my body remembered at the same time as my brain did, I sat up and vomited over the side of my bed, onto the floor, my lungs scraping terribly but definitely not as bad as they had been. I felt one of my visitor's hands go to my hair, which was threatening to get in the way of my mouth, despite its short length, and hold it back, so that there was no threat anymore. I wondered what I was vomiting up, or if this was all stomach acid. It was certainly painful enough. My mouth tasted like metal when I was done, or blood, but seeing as I had consumed neither of these (or at least, I was pretty sure) I had no idea why. The tears you cry when you vomit streaked down my face, scratchy and annoying and I wiped them away with the back of my palm when I was finished, surprised to find a few nurses already in the room, waiting to clean both my mess and me up.

I unwillingly complied with them, too exhausted to protest and insist I could help myself. I was helped up, my mouth rinsed out in the connecting bathroom (which I then noted with ever-growing irritation, I was wearing a flimsy hospital gown again) and then given a glass of water to try and hold down.

My father smiled at me, patting me on the head. I was surprised to realized that he was the one to have held my hair back, not having moved from the side of my bed until I returned. Dib stood next to the door, clearly uncomfortable at having my father there, not sure where to stand, since his former place at my bedside was now taken.

"Hows the stomach?" My father asked, pushing my hair behind my ear in an affectionate manner.

I was too tired to look uneasy, but it was effortless. I shot Dib a quick look and even he seemed to be trying to figure out what to do about my father's sudden appearance. The last time I had woken up, it had just been Dib. So why was he more concerned about me in a fire as opposed to me being in a coma?

"Better," I said, through a burning throat. "I think that was the last of it."

"You inhaled too much smoke." My father explained, in a gentle but authorative manner. "We had to put you on a nebulizer for a few hours, to ensure that your lungs were cleared. You'll have to take Albuterol for the next few days to ensure that there wasn't any permanent damage but you should be fine."

"O . . . kay?" I stated, though it came out like a question.

It seemed Dib had finally come up with an idea, as he cleared his throat and stood up, "Dad, you should probably go handle the press. You know how bad at it I am."

My father seemed pleased at the opportunity, nodding and standing. "Yes, of course!"

I shot Dib a grateful look over his shoulder. Dib just smiled at me a little, probably able to see the thousands of questions in my eyes.

But Membrane needed to have on more word, turning, patting me on the head again. "I'm glad you're alright, daughter. That was a close call, no?"

"Yeah," I nodded, reluctant to admit as much, so I tried to make a joke of it (although it soon became clear jokes were not my specialty). "For a minute there, I thought I was a goner."

"Yes," My father chuckled, patting me on the head. "Lucky Dib got there in time to save you, no?"

And I froze.

My father seemed to notice, his gentle patting stopped and he peered at me, concerned. "Are you alright, Gaz?"

"Um," I shook my head, nodding, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just . . . tired."

But I wasn't.

_Dib_ had saved me. Dib. Not Zim. I sighed as my father left the room, the slight worry evaporating for the most part, muttering something to Dib about watching me. I heard his low confirmation in reply and as my father's footsteps faded, I felt Dib take my hand and sit where my dad just had, probably more comfortable now that he felt he had a place.

I opened my eyes and looked at him, "Explain what happened."

His eyes widened. "You don't remember?"

I hissed at him, knowing he was on the brink of panicking, probably suspecting I'd had another memory relapse. "I remember, Dib! I just . . . I need to hear it again, okay? I hit my head. Some things are hazy."

Dib made a face, like he wasn't sure whether or not to believe me. His face became unreadable, eying my restless expression. I saw a million thoughts go through his eyes but what he was thinking, I couldn't say.

Finally though, he began talking.

"I broke into the building after you, when I realized no one else would go in to get you," He explained, looking at my hands as he explained. I looked down too and noted they were bandages. I wondered if one of my many falls had injured me and I hadn't noticed or this was something that had happened while I was unconscious and being rescued by Zim.

_Dib_, I corrected myself, warily. _Dib, apparently._

"You found me right after I fell, right?" I pressed, making sure that at least _that_ was clear.

Dib nodded, "Yeah. You were right about hitting your head. It was a pretty nasty gash, but, I don't think you noticed." He looked up. "How is that feeling, by the way?"

I touched my head, irritated to find that it was once again a bit tender. Not nearly as much as last time, but still, it was something. "Not bad, actually, but I believe you when you say it was bad. Things were kind of funny looking there . . ."

And by 'funny looking' I meant 'extremely delusional' but Dib, as always, did not need to know that.

"Oh?" But of course, he couldn't let it go. His head tilted innocently to the side, in an inquiring fashion. "How so?"

I hesitated, looking out the window, as if distracted by the glowing sky, all the while desperately trying to make sense of my memories and what Dib was telling me, also trying come up with a believable excuse. When I failed to do so within a minute, I decided to ignore his question and ask one of my own.

"So, you got me out, then?" I didn't look at him. I couldn't look at him. I saw him nod from my peripheral vision. "How did you get both of us out of the wreckage?"

Everything made sense but that. Zim would never come save me. True, we'd had a civilized conversation but being polite did not mean he owed me enough to go into a burning building to save my life. That was just too heroic. And Zim, though no (serious) enemy of mine, was no hero. And he certainly wasn't about to go help a human, let alone the sister of his arch-nemesis. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the authorities (or, more likely, Dib) later found Zim had been the one to suggest the timing, knowing I was in the building. He would do anything to get under Dib's skin, piss him off, weaken him in one way or another. Killing his sister would be a_ major_ victory for the little green idiot. Saving her would gain him nothing.

But . . . It had seemed so _real_.

I shook the feeling off inwardly, knowing Dib was telling the truth. Zim wouldn't save me. I didn't expect him to. The fall had made me delusional and I'd conjured up the thing my subconscious seemed to be, as of recently, obsessed with. Now dreams were one thing, but full-on delusions was a _whole_ other enchilida. Now I was getting worried. However, the piece of Dib's story that I did not understand was how he had, unable to use his hands, since he was carrying me, got us _both_ out of that building. Zim was an alien, with immediate and easy access to advanced, alien technology. He could've got us both out of there easily. Dib, on the other hand, was human and while strong, not particularly resourceful.

So how had he gotten us both out? Adrenaline? Instinct? Luck? Some absurd mixture of all three?

Answering my racing thoughts, Dib held up his watch with a smug expression.

"New installations just last week." He said, proudly. "Grappling hooks, emergency-water-gun (for Zim, of course, in the event of a surprise attack) and a few weapons of choice. Mix them altogether with adrenaline and the determination to save my sister and you've got one _bad_ Dib."

I scoffed. Only Dib could say something so arrogant and yet so stupid sounding.

"I'm so sure," I scoffed, dryly, my disbelief quite clear. Or, not so much disbelief with him as I was with myself.

This was bad. This was very bad. But Dib couldn't know or he would freak out, thinking that my hallucinations of Zim were some form of mind control on his part or another. Then again, they could be, but as Zim wasn't smart enough to use me to get to my brother, that was immediately ruled out as a possibility. Despite Zim being stronger-than-average looking and his access to advanced technology, he could never come up with a plan like this.

Besides, he was too afraid of me to threaten me.

Everyone was.

"No, it's true! Look, I'll show you," He rolled his chair to the foot of my bed, snatching the remote off of the table-thing that was stationed there. Dib shot me a wry smirk. "I'm all over the news."

"Because of _me_," I reminded him, but I looked up to the television. Depending on what I saw, I could form my opinions. It wasn't that I didn't believe my stupid brother but . . . I just . . . I needed to be sure was all.

Yeah.

Right.

Dib flipped to a news channel. It didn't take long, as they were everywhere in the limited choice of Hospital Channels. Of course, the Skool being burnt to the ground was top story news. They were speaking about what I already knew but they only suspected; that the protesters had something to do with the fire. I figured I would have to eventually tell them (them being the police) that yes, I _had_ seen a bunch of stupid teenagers do it, but now was not the time. I didn't feel like revenge right now (that would be for later, though, have no doubt about _that_); I needed facts.

They moved onto the 'breaking news of stunning heroism': The rescue of Gaz Membrane. Me.

And it was utterly humiliating.

"Gaz?" Dib questioned, peering at me as a hiss came out from between my teeth.

I cleared my throat, forcing the noise to stop. "I'm fine. Higher the volume."

Doing as I instructed, Dib highered the volume so I could hear better.

"-Our cameras captured the footage of the boy, Dib Membrane, running from the collapsing building with his sister in hand."

"Cutting to that footage now, Angy."

My eyes were glued to the screen. Everything but the hospital could have exploded and I still wouldn't have taken my eyes off of the screen. The footage began rolling.

It cut to the fire, in the building, a handful of extra fireman racing around, trying to find out how Dib got inside no doubt. People were beginning to panic when in something exploded and from the wreckage, on the opposite side of the explosion came Dib, running around the corner. All attention was diverted to him, the paramedics running to both of us. The camera got a nice shot of me, unconscious and even from the zoomed-in distance I could see how labored my breathing was. Not to mention how terrible I looked. I hadn't noticed at the time, but apparently, I was covered in ash and soot. My normally fuchsia hair was stained black in various places, as was my pale skin. Dib, too, had gotten quite a bit of ash on his clothes and body. He looked tired but the undisguisable triumph in his expression seemed to dissolve any fatigue he felt.

"See?" Dib said, pointedly. "They're calling me a hero."

"How nice for you," I muttered, the insult only half-there. I looked down at my hands, trying to gather my thoughts.

Well, I had the proof I wanted. Zim didn't come out with me, Dib did. Dib saved me, not Zim. I wasn't disappointed, no, not at all, this made things so much simpler. If Zim had saved me, I'd have owed him a hefty debt and I did not like owing people. But Dib was family and therefore I owed him nothing besides a bit of appreciation for a while and even then, that wasn't much.

What bothered me was that Zim was the image my mind had conjured up. Zim. Not my father or some random kid in a hallway. Not that janitor, who had been the last person to stain my mind, other then Dib since he called me and all, but _Zim_. What was I going to do the next time I saw him? I was already having dreams about the guy, but now I was fantasizing him as my savior? Why? What preference to Zim did I have over Dib? To be honest I would rather not have to deal with either of them but if I had to choose, hands down, it would be Dib I would prefer to handle. I trusted Dib. Zim gave me no reason to trust him.

And why should I? We barely knew each other. But that was my point, wasn't it? Why was I fantasizing about someone who might as well be a complete stranger to me?

Maybe I was reading too much into this. I needed sleep. But sleep brought images of Zim.

. . . _Damn_ that little green idiot!

"Gaz?" I felt Dib's hand brush my cheek, "You okay?"

I recoiled at once. I wasn't in the mood to be touched on a good day, let alone a day like this. "Don't touch me. And yeah, why?"

"You're crying." Dib stated, seeming surprised I hadn't noticed.

Instinctively, I lifted my hand to my cheeks and scrubbed at them with my palm, finding them wet when I retracted them. As I had gotten all of them I just huffed and yawned, making it look like this was why my eyes were watering.

"I'm just tired," I stated, sleepily. "I wanna go back to sleep."

"Okay," Dib said, nodding, smiling, standing up to give me space. "I'll be outside. You go to sleep, okay? I want you to _really_ get rest this time, so you don't have to come back here again."

This brought an intriguing subject to me. "Oh, hey, they only treated me for the fire stuff, right?"

Dib hesitated.

My eyes narrowed, a warning tone coming into my voice, "Dib."

"Well, no-!"

"DIB!"

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright!" He said defensively. "I asked them to check on your scars and your head, that's it! They had to treat your new wounds anyways, and they had to make sure the fall hadn't given you another concussion!"

I never let up my severe gaze, but I was curious. "And what were their findings?"

He seemed wary, but willing to share his information with me. Which was only fair, really, since it _was_ about _my_ body. "Nothing."

"Ha!" I shouted, triumphantly, pointing an accusing finger. Then I flinched, the noise of my shout hurting my head. "Ow."

Dib looked alarmed, stepping towards me, his wariness forgotten. "Are you okay?"

"I _told_ _you_ nothing was wrong with me." I huffed in reply, turning my back on him. "You're always overreacting. Now get out, I want to go to bed and I can't sleep with you watching me."

Because I would already have enough to deal with when those damned contacted eyes filled my dreams. I didn't need _Dib's_ eyes on me too.

"Okay," Dib said and I could hear relief seeping into his voice. "Sleep tight, Gaz."

I grumbled a reply, closing my eyes. He shut the light off with an audible dull click. When his footsteps faded I sat up, the glow of the window more then enough light to allow me to see and not lose myself to my exhaustion. I sighed, running my hand through my hair, vaguely wondering how it was I was cleaned up and coming to the assumption of 'nurses'.

I decided Dib couldn't know. That much was obvious. And I wasn't about to tell my dad. I didn't know what reasoning I had behind it, but if I couldn't trust my own instincts, what could I trust? So those choices were out. I could always just schedule an appointment on my own, but then there was always the chance they would contact my parent, since there was only confidentiality in check-ups. So it was an option but not one I particularly liked. But I really did need to get this crap checked out. This wasn't healthy, that much I knew for sure. I was more then happy to procrastinate but not when things were getting this serious. My health was nothing to be played with.

But what option did I have that didn't involve . . . that didn't involve . . . Wow, I was tired . . .

My eyelids began to droop, some heated liquid running through me. I looked down to notice, for the first time, an IV in my hand. I scolded myself for being so unobservant, fighting against the drowsiness coming with the liquid. I knew immediately it was in vain though as, well, at the risk of making a dumb pun, I was trying to fight my veins. So I sighed, getting into a more comfortable position, letting the induced-sleep crawl over me. Just as the last of the orange glow disappeared from my vision I had an idea. A thought, really. One I should've recognized earlier. A terrible, horrible idea.

I didn't have much deliberation time before I was asleep, swirling in a mass of color, fire and of course, that unwanted but ever-present shadow, just on the edge of my vision, that I knew, even before his arms were around me.

* * *

Yup, I just mind-fucked you all and dedicated a whole chapter to hospitalization. Annoying? Yes. Necessary? Yes.

WALLOW IN DISAPPOINTMENT! :D

Just kidding, I would never make you do that . . . for prolonged periods of time.

Anyways, the twists. Don't you love them? My new readers (and probably my old) probably have a strong desire to hit me right now. But don't worry, faithful readers, you will have your worship moments eventually! And soon, as Gaz's terrible idea might just prove wonderful to you.

Best Monday ever, right?

Till the next chapter!


	12. The Third First Day

Yes, and things get interesting!

If you thought I didn't have enough of a plot, you were very, very wrong. Gaz's memory is only PART of this little story I'm weaving.

**"He is a bad boy with a tained heart  
And even I know this ain't smart  
But mama I'm in love with a criminal  
And this kind of love isn't rational, it's _physical_."  
- Criminal by Britney Spears**

If anyone wants to say something about Britney Spears totally unrelated to Invader Zim in any way, go ahead. Right AFTER you listen to that song and imagine some type of hot partnership between those two. Totally spurned inspiration for this chapter too, I'm addicted to it and listening right now, especially the 'rational vs. physical' thing. That part is stuck in my head.

DON'T JUDGE ME! D:

Hope the chapter title confuses you.

ALSO, a HUUUGE thanks to you guys and your reviews. Not only were they threatening, but they were flattering. I appreciated them and your obsessiveness with this story very much and it put me in a very good mood. :)

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 12  
"The Third First Day"**

I let out a breath.

_You've done this once before, Gaz,_ I reminded myself, fidgeting with my skirt for the third time in the past five minutes. _You can take the stares._

I normally wasn't the fidgety type but I was willing to lose a little self control at the moment. Better now then when we arrived at Skool and I got out of the car. I wasn't about to look like an idiot in front of a whole _new_ group of people. Because yes, we were still going to Skool. The District refused to back down, even though one person had already almost been killed. Personally, if I wasn't already involved, I wouldn't give a crap. In fact, I _still_ didn't give a crap. So rather than wait until our campus was rebuilt, we had all been temporarily divided in half and given to two separate Skools. Parents and students alike complained about the new, somewhat invconvenient commute but the District was having a power play and refused to listen, so here we were, driving to a whole new, unfamiliar campus. It was Thursday, having taken the Skool two days to collect itself and send us the information of our new schedules, as well as a map of our new, temporary campus.

"This bites," Dib noted, turning into the parking lot. "It looks like the first day all over again."

I held up 3 fingers, not looking away from the ceiling. "My third first day. Oh joy."

He laughed, "Well, yeah, that's true. But you know what they say-."

"Third times the charm," I finished for him, exiting the car just as he parked it, my backpack hooked carefully over my shoulder.

I eyed my new campus suspiciously, as if I expected trouble in this one as well, which I did. Trouble just seemed to be my new (and first) best friend lately. I figured that a change of scenery probably wasn't going to change my luck. Dib stood at my side, seeming to give this new place the same critical evaluation I was.

"It seems," He said, slowly, searching for the right word. "Safe."

I snorted, rolling my eyes at his choice of description for our new Skool. "If by 'safe' you mean 'not on fire', yes, I have to say that's a plus side."

Someone whistled, and not in the 'I'm calling my pet' kind of way. Someone was doing the 'I'm asking for you to punch me in the face' kind of whistle. My eyes darted behind me, as did Dib's, both of us turning. We got a view of a few boys shoving each other, eying me, as well as other girls in our Skool, some of them blushing, some of them uncomfortable and others giving them unimpressed expressions. I shot them a critical look that went unnoticed, as they were too obsorbed in their amusement with themselves and each other.

"Oh dear," I muttered, shaking my head and turning away. "Now I get to establish my reputation _all over again_."

Dib noticed the feigned dispair in my voice, as well as my vicious little smirk and laughed, warily. "Try not to kill anyone."

I just smirked wider, "No promises."

He sighed, but did not argue. We continued walking through the halls. Having already reviewed our new schedules, Dib and I knew we did not have any classes together until 3rd period and then again 5th. And he would not have time to walk me to any of _my_ classes as he was going to be spending the day looking for _his_ classes. However, we agreed to meet at his car for lunch and then from there figure out a place to sit until further notice.

"See you later." Dib said, waving to me, pointing. "My class is this way."

I just nodded my acknowledgement, arranging my new locker. "See you."

My books slipped from my grasp and I cursed, severely, picking them up off the floor with irritation. And being thus distracted, I did not note the approaching footsteps that I should've wanted to avoid with every fiber of my being. I had gather most of my books, aware of a couple more behind me when I heard an oof, followed by the tell-tale signs of someone tripping.

I wasn't particularly concerned, not really caring if anyone had been hurt because of me. It helped establish my old repuation with these new students and considering this mornings events, I needed all the help I could get. The warnings should spread soon enough but it wouldn't hurt to help a little.

"Hey, _ow_!"

My brow rose at the whining, insinuative tone. Someone wanted my attention. I turned, giving the complainer an incredulous look. Upon recognizing the whiner my face contorted in disgust and disinterest.

"_Yes_?" I hissed, impatiently. "What do you want?"

The boy from the parking lot lifted himself partially from the floor, removing my book out from under him and handing it to me with a convincing wince. I wasn't impressed, however and just gave him a dry look, snatching my property from him without another word.

"What?" He demanded. "No apology? No 'Gee, sorry for leaving my crap on the floor, mister, what can I do to make it up to you'?"

I sighed. Clearly, this boy wasn't about to take the hint. Very well, I would just have to make an example of him then.

"First off, I'll be the first to inform you that nobody says 'Gee' anymore." I began while arranging my property in my locker. "Secondly, I don't apologize to people. Especially when you were the one stupid enough to not look where you were going and tripping on rather obviously out of place items. And thirdly."

I turned, shooting him a venemous look.

He stared, mouth agape, not quite sure how to handle me. Which was expected. _Nobody_ knew how to handle their first encounter with my wrath.

"If you want to keep all parts of your body that are precious to you, you will close your mouth, get up and leave before I finish with what I'm doing here and have the time to hunt you down and show you how to look when you are _actually_ in pain. Are we understood?"

He just nodded, vigorously.

I waited. He didn't get the hint so I hissed at him. "_**Go**_!"

Scrambling to his feet, the boy tripped once more, but did not stop to complain at the real sores this time and proceeded to push passed students, racing down the hallway. My old classmates followed from where he had ran, spotted me and gave each other knowing looks, answering the questions of those who had yet to know who I was and why I should be avoided.

I sighed, shaking my head, gathering the last book and shoving it in place. I kicked my locker shut, not in the mood to be civil to it, determined to make the correct impression as I walked briskly down the hallway, ignoring every occasional look I got and resisting a smirk at the passing whispers I heard, almost all of them warnings. A few of them were once again about my appearance, which helped keep the scowl on my face. Just another reason to curse my unfortunately good-looks.

A familiar chuckle made me freeze.

"Someone's a bit of an especial brat today, isn't she?"

I spun around, surprised I hadn't noticed this presence earlier. _Geez_, I was unobservant today!

The new bane of my existence was there, books in hand, clearly amused by my particularly haughty demenaor. I started to glower at him when a feeling of deja vu creeped in from looking at that smile of his. Except in my dreams, it was kinder. More affectionate-.

_Stop it!_ I ordered my brain at once, forcing down a blush and making my face stay monotonous. _That's not real! And you don't blush!_

"My attitude is hardly any concern of _yours_," I retorted, dryly, proud of how composed I was, despite my inner frustrations.

Zim shrugged, stepping to my side, ignoring my expression that clearly stated his companionship was unwelcome. "Actually, it is. See?" He pointed purposefully at my schedule, placing his next to mine. "We've got quite a few classes together."

My eyes widened, flicking between the sheets of paper, vaguely aware of Zim's snickering as the horror appeared on my face. Slowly though, I became aware of how close he was to me, his chest to my side, his arm over my shoulder. Immediately, before these thoughts could run away with themselves, I shook it off, brushing past him without a word, refusing to be humiliated. I rubbed my palms across my cheeks, feeling the frustrated blush creeping back in and scraping at them like I could wipe the unwanted coloring away at will.

Zim, for whatever reason, chased after me. And then I realized he was really just going the same way, as we had 1st, 3rd and 6th together. How freaking great, right? I could barely handle _6th_ with him without being delusional and having dreams about the guy. Now that I had four periods with him, who knew how messed up my head was going to be? I resisted a groan at the thought, not wanting to give him reason to spark another conversation. Not that he was walking next to me anymore, he was trailing behind me by a few feet, casually, oblivious to my feelings of frustration. I wished he was seething about this as much as I was. Then I wouldn't have to deal with his damned, smug little snickering.

Stupid little alien idiot.

_Well great_, I thought, gritting my teeth in my ever-growing irritation. _Now I'm obsessing about him almost as much as **Dib** probably does!_

Hm. It seemed Zim had a way of getting underneath the Membrane children's skin. I'm sure he was _so_ proud of himself.

I shook off the feeling, reassuring myself that in the case we got to choose our own seats, I would just sit as far away from him as possible. Problem solved. Feeling better at my own logic, my rage began to dissolve and I was able to walk easily, unballing my hands that I hadn't realized had been squeezing my backpack strap. This was fine. I could do this easy!

Upon entering the classroom I noted a large amount of open seats with a raised brow. I mean, I knew this Skool was incredibly unpopulated since we we only had to be divided into two groups for our somewhat large Skool but really? These classrooms maybe had ten people, _average_. No wonder the District had chosen this route over submitting. It was way too easy.

I flinched, a sharp headache darting into my attention for a moment. My hand automatically went to my forehead and I huffed, moving immediately into the back of the room, ignoring some of the looks I was getting. When Zim walked in, the attention would be on him, as his green skin should attract plenty of attention, now that not all of our classmates were used to it. I vaguely wondered if Dib was going to take advantage of that (and the fact no one here was aware of his apparent 'craziness') before realizing I did not care and settled into my desk, waiting for this hell of a class day to begin.

I heard the sharp intake of breath, looking up from my notebook to see a few girls I did not recognize, already in desks, giggling and blushing. I rolled my eyes, boredly turning my attention to a uniformed boy entering the room, smirking at the annoying females of my age group, polishing his nails on his jacket. I didn't recognize him either. I supposed he was probably one of the few popular kids and dismissed it. I however dropped my pencil and huffed, forced to get down ony my hands and knees to retrieve it from where it had rolled under the desk.

I nearly banged my head on the table when someones feet came rapidly in my direction and I snatched my pencil, sitting up like I was oblivious of the approacher.

They placed their hands on my desk and I heard many a sigh from the flock of girls up at the front. I glanced up from my desk to see the boy who had just entered leaning on my desk, smirking at me in what I assumed was a charming smile. My brow rose. Clearly, the rumors weren't moving fast enough.

"Hello," He stated, "You must be knew here. I'm-."

"On my desk and invading my personal space." I stated, bluntly, before he could finish.

He seemed surprised, running a hand through a few golden locks of hair before tossling them. Once again I heard a chorus of sighs but took no notice, my monotonous expression never faltering. He laughed and there were shy, girlish giggles that joined him. I was ready to gag but resisted. Emotionless and cruel, not bitchy. Bitchy meant people could hate me and while I was alright with that, I would prefer people feared me rather then dislike me.

"Ha, you're a quick one," He winked at me, daring to lean even closer, his mouth-washed and carefully cleansed breath practically on my face. "I'll have to be careful around you."

I snorted, leaning back. "I would recommend just leaving me the hell alone. Honestly," I shook my head in disbelief, "Who do you think you are?"

Some of the girls were giving me disapproving, shocked looks. I could feel their glares on my skin but they were brushed off like nothing, as I could hardly care what their opinions were, so long as they were negative. Before this could go much further though, the boy now looking at me with a slender, probably plucked brow raised, uproarious laughter filled the room. I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or irritated, but given the situation, I decided to just continue with indifferent and see how that worked out for me.

"I come into the classroom," Zim continued, through his laughter. "To find an idiotic little child already attempting to coerce you. What was this, two minutes?"

"Were you counting?" I questioned back, my head tilting to the side curiously. "If you were keeping track of me, I'm sure Dib would just _love_ to hear _that_."

The handful of students from my old class groaned at the mention of Dib but were quickly silenced with a quick glare from both me and Zim. As to why Zim was glaring, well, I could only guess it was because he didn't like others interfering in his arguments.

The boy on my table, still unnamed, glanced between the two of us, slowly removing his hands from my desk. "Um, I'm sorry, is Dib your boyfriend or something?"

"HA!" Zim shouted, making everyone flinch at his sharp raised in volume. "Insolent fool-boy! The Dib-worm is her brother-unit!"

I glanced to the front of the room, wondering why the teacher wasn't doing anything about this, only to see they were absent. Great. So this was going to play out uncontrolled.

"Brother . . . unit?" The boy looked boredly at Zim, shooting me a look of disbelief. "Does he talk like that all the time?"

I nodded, "Yes, yes he does." And then I scowled, looking at his hands that were once again comfortably on my desk and then back up at him purposefully. "And you can go sit down now."

He smiled and made a move to sit in the chair beside me.

"Not there." I snapped at once, giving him my best death glare.

The unnamed child stared, looking uncomfortable. Zim started laughing again. Flushing and looking frustrated the boy rounded on him, hands balled up into fists.

"Shut up, will you? Geez, did you get set on obnoxiously loud this morning?" He shouted.

The girls giggled, viciously. I shot them disgusted looks. Was my gender truly this easily persuaded by good looks?

And then there was that weird . . . burning sensation in my chest. A familiar feeling, but one that I hadn't really experienced before. It was very few times in my life that I had ever defended my brother, as he could normally take care of himself. And always before those times I knew he needed my help (and I was willing to give it) I felt a rush of fury and injustice. No one got to hurt Dib but _me_. And Zim, I guess, but mainly me! However I had never felt this way when it came to anyone else being bullied.

So I couldn't possibly understand why I felt this way when it came to Zim being yelled at by some blond, attractive idiot.

It didn't last long though as Zim was suddenly baring his teeth, feeling every bit as pissed as I (inwardly) was, no doubt. He placed his books down on the desk next to me, his leather-covered hands clenching into fists. For a moment my eyes were captivated by those leathery gloves, remembering how I had imagined the texture. For once I didn't blush or disgusted with myself. It seemed my indifferent outer appearance was seeping inside. Well good. I hated feeling this much all the time.

The surrounding students paid attention now, anticipating a fight. Especially when Zim cracked his knuckles, through his gloves and then said in such a severe tone I had to raise my brow at it.

"How _dare_ you insult the Almighty Zim!" He growled. And I mean it, the guy _literally_ growled. A very inhuman rumble was resonating from his chest, making the surrounding students lean away in uneasiness. I, however, was highly amused by the noise and half-wished Dib was here, although I wasn't quite sure why.

The unnamed boy did not seem fazed, a fact I had to credit him for. But I could see the slight trembling of his fingers behind his back. "Almighty Zim? You've got to be kidding me. Alright, fine, if you want to act tough, prove it!"

Zim snorted, shedding his jacket (of which I took notice that this new one did fit remarkably better then the last) in one easy movement, sliding the material off his shoulders and tossing it on the chair.

"Very well, idiotic dirt-child." He said, deathly calm. "I accept your challenge."

The boy laughed, mockingly. "Oh please. You think that just cause you use articulate wording I'm going to be intimidated? I'm not scared of you!"

And me being myself, I felt the urge to correct him. And it being such an undeniable urge, I had to smirk and point out the obvious, recapturing his attention for a moment, reentering the conversation that had started with me in the first place.

"Then why are your hands shaking?" I questioned, politely, although I couldn't hold back the slightly smug, inquiring expression that overtook my face when he turned to shoot me a look of frustrated embarrassment.

"You're not helping," He pointed out. Like I was supposed to be on his side.

I shrugged, leaning against my chair and averting my attention back to my notebook, like the fight about to break out was not particularly concering to me. "I wasn't trying to be. I was correcting your mistake."

Zim's snickering took both my attention and the boy's but he quickly stopped, noting both of our questioning gazes. My eyes narrowed, warningly. I didn't like to be laughed at, even if it was at a joke I had made. I was dangerous, not funny. He seemed to take the hint and backed off, turning his attention to the real prey and the situation at hand.

The boy, finally having enough of both of us it seemed, threw a punch.

It was not at Zim.

I was out of my chair as soon as I saw him turning and sidestepped easily, making him fall head-first into my chair. Upon this contact, the girls gasped in agony and I shot them a look that silenced them. Did they not realize that this boy had just tried to assault me, or did they just assume that I deserved it? Well, either way, I certainly wasn't going to allow this type of behavior to go unpunished.

I was aware Zim's growling had stopped, abruptly. I didn't pay it much mind as the boy sat up, groaning, rubbing his head. He didn't get much recovery time though as I had immediately greabbed him by his collar and threw him at the wall, slamming his back up against it. The girls screamed now, yet none of them made a move to assist him. They worshipped the ground he walked on but when it came to protecting him, they were still the dainty, unhelpful, mindless creatures that were around him. Well, at least they were consistent in their stupidity.

"You're quick," I informed the boy, who had sunk on his backside to the ground. I stood over him, boredly. "Not _nearly_ quick enough for me though."

I gripped him by his collar again, probably stretching the fabric and possibly tearing it, considering how sharp my nails tended to be. I spun him around, jamming his arm into his back and shoving him forward in one motion, giving him no reaction time. He stumbled, hard, into another desk. And as he was just not having his day, the edge of desk collided with him in a rather unfortunate place for males. The boy howled in pain and it seemed the girls had no more feminine squeals left in them, only looks of terror, pain and intense anxiety.

"_Next _time_,_" I turned him around again by a jerk at the back of his shirt, slamming him up against another students desk. Said student cried out in surprise but I ignored them, holding the greivously pained boy still so that I was sure he was going to feel what I wanted to do next. "Pick on someone your own size. You'll get what you bargained for."

I raised my fist and heard the sharp intake of breath from those who I had yet to establish a reputation with. Those who were well aware of my capabilities smartly turned away, tensing as if they themselves were about to be hit. And it would've turned this boy into quite the bloody mess had Zim's hand not stopped my hand, inches before impact.

I knew it was him immediately because of that texture that I recognized. I took a single moment to credit myself for having conjured up a fairly accurate texturing in my dreams before shoving his hand off me and turning, the half-delirious boy still in my grasp.

"What?" I demanded, through my teeth.

Zim jerked a thumb towards the door, "The teaching drone shall be here in a moment. Do you really wish to leave evidence of your assault?"

I scowled. I hadn't thought of that. For a moment I wondered what Zim would've done then, if he wasn't_ really_ going to fight. No doubt he and Dib would get into some scuffle that the alien started today, just so that the remaining steam he had could blow off. And if that was true and Zim got into _two_ fights today as well as myself and Dib getting into fights, we would no doubt be labeled to this Skool as people not to be trifled with. I tried to picture that; Dib and Gaz, Membrane children, two fighters of the Skool. Zim, the weird green kid; extremely testy and irritable. If anyone else from our Skool got into a fight today that would be kind of hilarious. Our normally very relaxed, mild class getting the reputation of being ruffians and trouble-makers. I wondered how the District would handle _that_ new problem, if it arose.

But, considernig the situation at hand, I let the boy, who was regaining his senses, remain un-injuured. Or, at least, any injury that could be seen. He would be sore for a few days, max, nothing that satisfied me but it would have to do for now. Besides, he'd just got his ass handed to him by a girl, a petite one at that. I had no doubt I'd just given him not only an egotistical blow, but his popularity could very well take a dive for this little incident.

I nodded at Zim, acknowledging his statement curtly, but not gratefully and slammed the boy into an empty chair at the front of the room before going and sitting back down in my seat, like nothing had happened. The whole room stared at me. The bell rang and the teacher came in, as if he had been waiting outside the door the whole time. Vaguely, I wondered if he had and had just ignored the situation going on in his classroom.

He took note of Zim, still standing, removing his jacket from the chair beside mine, where he had tossed it and sliding it back on, preparing to move seats. Good. I didn't want him sitting next to me.

"You! Young man! What is your name?"

Zim froze, looking up, warily. But his reply was stern, sure of itself. "My name is Zim."

"Yes, well, _Zim_," The teacher said, severely, gesturing to the seat. "Sit down and take your seat."

_Aren't those the same thing?_ I thought to myself, boredly, unconcerned. Zim was going to move in a minute anyways.

"Actually, sir," Zim corrected, politely, "I was just moving to the front of the classroom, so I could-."

"_I_ could care _less_ about what you were going to do," The teacher snapped in reply, irritated. "Sit down."

Zim nodded and picked his stuff up, giving the teacher a dark look. Neither of us were in the mood to be ordered around at the moment, that much I knew for sure. So this teacher was pushing Zim's control over himself. My eyes flicked between the two, wondering if there was about to be a third fight in the classroom (as I counted Zim's brief argument with the boy as a fight, only one that was side-tracked by my interference).

"Where do you think you're going?" The teacher demanded, turning away from writing whatever on the board. "There's a perfectly good chair right in front of you!"

Zim and I shared a brief but very explanatory look. He seemed to be debating whether to comply or argue and my narrow-eyed glare pretty much gave him my preference. He then began walking away when the teacher began throwing a tantrum.

"JUST SIT DOWN!"

Zim froze, startled, automatically sitting down. Then his eyes widened further, looking between me and the teacher, who was calming himself and turning back to the board.

"The hell . . .?" I muttered, giving the teacher a look of confusion, then just shaking my head at Zim, making it clear that I was not happy about his sitting position.

"It's not as if it is _Zim's_ fault the faculty here are insane!" He hissed, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

"It's your fault for not being quicker," I replied curtly, shooting him a nasty glare before we were both forced to give our new teacher our attention.

His name was Mr. Dribbles, he was 47 and I decided it would be a safe bet to say he had anger management issues, as well as a slight dose of schizophrenia. Thankfully, his class was only instructions of how we, meaning his new additions to the classroom, were to behave in his class. I couldn't help but smirk when he shot pointed looks at Zim and then released a full-on sneer when the boy I had shoved in a seat in the front got scolded for looking so disheveled.

"Students," Mr. Dribbles stated, slapping a ruler on the boys desk, mere centimeters from his hand. "Will show up to my class prepared and put together."

I hadn't expected it. I'm sure Zim hadn't either. In a rush of what I could only assume was embarrassed frustration and injustice, the boy jumped to his feet, pointed at both Zim and myself and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"THEY BEAT ME UP BEFORE CLASS!"

Both of us froze.

Oh _shit_.

* * *

O.O

Wow, this was a long chapter. Alright, so, the finishing of the rest of the day next chapter. We've got third with Gaz, Dib, AND Zim so that should be interesting and then another class with Zim and Gaz. Interesting events will unfold. At least, I'm planning. You think Gaz's got problems now just WAIT until a few more days have passed! Woo!

What is it, December . . . 29th in this story I think? News Years!

Shit boutta go down

You know you love it.

Till the next chapter!


	13. Children With Evil Intentions

Mew?

Mew.

**"Black, black heart  
Would you offer more?  
Why would you make it easier  
On me, to satisfy?"  
-Black Black Heart by David Usher  
**

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 13  
"Children With Evil Intentions"**

Well, it certainly was an eventful day.

The boy was sent immediately to the office, for disrupting class with his nonsense. However I knew that when he got to the office the little whiner would be demanding to see the principal until he got his way. And then we'd both be in for it. Damn this Skool and its male population!

Zim, Dib and I were not the only people to have gotten into fights today. Because yes, as I expected, Dib and Zim did get into a rather heated argument during third period. As I purposefully sat on opposite sides of the room as both of them and Dib, arriving late, was forced to take the last open seat next to Zim, it became very clear those two had ill history with each other and that one of them would need to be moved. In the end I switched places with Zim, putting me next to Dib and Zim on the opposite side of the room from both of us.

Apparently, Torque, a rather large student who went to our Skool, Olivia, Zita, Tim and a few other students had gotten into tousles with students from the opposing Skool. Which, including Zim, myself and my brother, was around 8 or 9 different children fighting with another 8 or 9 other children within one day. 20 or so children fighting.

I had to admit, I was certainly looking forward to this Skool year.

By the end of the day we (the children from my old Skool) as well as the children involved in our fights were summoned into the office. Apparently the annoying boy from earlier, as well as the one who had tripped on my book, had both told on me. Which meant Zim and I were currently tied for the rowdiest child position, since we both had gotten into two fights in one day. Although, Torque's had been a brawl with three children, so while it only counted as one fight, he still had more people against him. And I had to hand it to our side, not many of us looked roughed up. In fact, not a single one of us had tattled on the instigators. It was all _this_ Skool who had told the administrators.

"This is ridiculous," Dib muttered next to me, enough for our whole procession to hear.

Zim snorted. "For once, Dib-stink, I agree with you and your smelly head."

And for once, Dib did not retort with some insult in return. Our entire class muttered their agreements, that the fact we had been made to gather here was stupid. Across the room, the tattlers sat, looking uncomfortable or shooting us smug, venomous looks. We simply sneered in return or remained indifferent. I had _two_ people glaring at me and Dib noticed.

"Friends of yours?" He whispered to me and I laughed, nodding.

"You could say that," I replied wryly, shooting both boys threatening, vicious smiles. They shied away from my challenging expression, looking at the floor. I doubted they counted on being made to face their attackers when they came and told.

"Stupid tattlers," I heard Olivia mutter, flicking a blond strand of hair over her shoulder.

I eyed the tension in the room, on both sides, with a pleased expression. Naturally, I had to make the situation worse. Dib saw my expression but before he could stop me, the words were already out of my mouth.

"So," I said, loudly, adressing both sides of the hallway outside of the office. I eyed the other side, casually, a smirk on my face, crossing my legs and leaning back comfortably. "Your Skool not used to a little roughhousing? Figures. I could tell you were wimps as soon as I saw you."

For a moment, there was stunned, disbelieving silence. Clearly, these people had not excpected any of us to try something so close to the principal's office. But I had a reputation to establish here. And if it was going to be someone who liked to pick fights, well, these easily intimidated children would ignore me, if only to avoid a tussle. I was perfectly alright with that.

And this was kind of funny to me anyways.

One of them, the girl who had been shooting Olivia nasty looks, glared at me. She looked like a senior. "Watch your mouth, little brat. You think that because we're next to the administrators office nothing will happen?"

"No, but I'm sure you did," I retorted, bluntly, sneering at the expressions of nervousness and shame on their faces. I had hit the nail on the head.

"Gaz," Dib said, in a warning tone. "Knock it off. We're in enough trouble as it is."

But it seemed Zim wouldn't have it, as he shot the boy from earlier a look, one that was clearly a challenge. "Ah, yes. You and I never finished our little spat, did we, insolent worm-child?"

"What is with you and your words?" The boy shrieked in return, jumping to his feet. "They're stupid! Like you!"

Immediately Zim was on his feet and following was Dib, placing himself between the two of them warningly. Ah, Dib; always the vigilante.

But his presence was ignored, Zim shouting smugly past Dib. "Says the boy who was defeated so easily at the hands of a female barely half his size!"

My brow rose, but I said nothing, since it wasn't really an insult (to _me_), just fact. Although he better be careful with his words. I wasn't against hitting him, though I'll admit it was something I normally left to Dib. In fact, I would _like_ to hit Zim right now. After all the confusion I'd been having because of him recently, I was just waiting for the right opportunity.

"I_ said_," Dib insisted, shooting Zim a harsh look, reminding both boys of his presence. "Knock it off, Zim!"

"You do not tell me what to do, Dib-filth!" Zim snapped back, growling. Not that same growl from before, much to my disappointment. That had been kind of a cool noise. "Now sit down! Zim does not back down from a challenge!"

"This is stupid," Another girl insisted, apparently on Dib's side. "Both of you just shut up and sit down before the staff hears us!"

For some reason, she was listened to, much to my disapprointment. I just shrugged when Dib shot me a disapproving look, knowing I had done that on purpose. I sighed boredly then, my entertainment gone and waited for this damned principal to finally call us into the room.

He did and we were all forced to apologize to one another, as I had expected and we were all given after Skool detention for the entire week. He was harder on our side and we knew it and Zim called him out on it, bluntly, no sneer in his bored, matter-of-fact voice. The principal had gotten livid, told us all to go back to our classes (which had gone now to 6th period, our meeting having started after lunch) and shut the door, leaving him and Zim alone in the room.

Of course both our sides shot nasty looks after each other as we left the office, informing each other that all our apologies were insincere lies and given the chance, we would fight with each other again. I had beamed at this display of hostility between the sides, Dib gazing at me disapprovingly.

"You shouldn't be so happy about this," He stated, walking me to my class, since they were next to each other. "We're lucky we weren't suspended."

"I don't see why you're _not_ happy about this," I retorted, giving him a look of disbelief. "If everyone here thinks you're about to fight them, then no one will bully you like they used to."

It seemed Dib had just caught on to my game. I resisted an eye roll. I always felt like my motives for doing things were fairly obvious, but those around me often mistook my actions as the product of bored cruelty. Granted, it sometimes was, but not always. In fact I rarely did something simply for the sake of being mean, it was just nobody took notice. Which was how I liked it. If everyone knew my motives then I wouldn't have the advantage anymore.

"Oh," Dib stated, looking surprised. "Oh yeah, huh?"

This earned him a thump on the back of the head from me and he shouted in indignation, but I ignored him. He huffed and crossed his arms, pouting, but contemplating. Most likely he was thinking about the outcome of our new reputations and how he could work it out to his advantage. Or, being Dib, maybe he was just worried about getting in trouble. At the very least, _I_ knew this could prove very helpful to us. Dib should really be thanking be but I credited the lack of gratittude to his obliviousness and let it go.

We reached his class first and he waved at me before heading inside. I just nodded, heading into my classroom.

The teacher looked up, eying me with disapproval. Geez, did all the teachers have a stick up their asses? Seriously, my old teachers were the cheeriest damn things I had ever come into contact with. I curiously wondered if their push-over attitude was the reason for my class's aggressive nature but shook it off. I wasn't a psychologist and I wasn't going to try to be.

"You're Gaz Membrane, correct?" She asked. I nodded. "I'm Profesor Lythe. Please sit down."

I directed my attention to the two open seats, right up front. I smirked, knowing that she was probably well aware why I had been in the principal's office and wanted me directly in front of her desk to keep an eye on me. I soon scowled, however, noting the second chair beside me and realizing Zim was probably supposed to sit there. Why fate continued to throw us into the seats next to each other I had no idea whatsoever but it was starting to get on my nerves. All eyes on me (and a few of the whispers of my classmates _about_ me) I sat down, casually, completely at ease with the tension.

Zim came in soon afterwords and after his identity was confirmed, he was directed to the seat next to me. He too got the same whispering, threatened treatment from our peers. We both ignored each other, neither of us in the mood I guessed. Or maybe he was trying to get my attention and I was just ignoring him. Either way, we didn't speak that entire class period.

The bell rang, signalling the end of this hellish first day of Merging. That's what I was going to call it; The Day of Merging. It had a nice ring to it. That's what I thought of as I gathered my things, dreading the next hour I was to sit in a room with two people I hated, my brother and someone I despised through no fault of their own.

"This should certainly be interesting," Zim commented to me, as if aware of what I was thinking of. And for all I knew, he was. He was certainly featuring in my head enough.

I snorted, "If by 'interesting' you mean 'hellish' and 'boring' then yes, this _is_ going to be interesting."

Zim eyed me, as if questioning everything about what I was. "Why are you in such a temper? From your earlier antagonizing, I would have thought you'd jump at another chance to be in a room with those pitiful whiners again."

"Well if that's what you thought, then your attempt to start a fight with that boy would be considered helping me, right?" I shot back, in an attempt to shut him up. It certainly worked. He seemed uncomfortable, struggling for words. I ignored him, brushing past his uncomfortable figure and going right to the office, where we had been instructed to meet.

Dib was just outside my classroom, smiling in an attempt to be cheerful, but I could see the dread in his eyes for what was about to come. "How was class?"

"Oh it was just _wonderful_," I said sarcastically, shooting him a look that mocked his sanity. "The teacher let me sit right in front of her and _everything_. And we were just the best of friends. I'm sure we're going to pass notes all the time. And dont be surprised if she comes over to play checkers."

Dib gave me a dry look. "Was that necessary?"

"Of course."

The rest of our walk was in silence. I was aware, as I was increasingly becoming so, of Zim's presence behind us, walking slower to avoid contact but heading towards the same destination nonetheless. I wondered how irritated he was about this; being told by a bunch of humans he had to stay in their learning facility longer then everyone else because _another_ useless human had picked a fight with him. Essentially, if Zim was even half as smart as he claimed to be, this would be Hell for him. An advanced being of his race ordered around by people of less then remedial standards with a false sense of empowerment.

I shivered, feeling like ice was running through my veins. That had been happening a lot when I got too far into understanding Zim, or figuring out a small aspect of his life. I shouldn't care. I really shouldn't. And I wouldn't, if it weren't for these damned dreams. I folded my arms tightly across my chest, feeling an ache in my back and resisting a groan. Ever since I'd woken up in the hospital, it seemed my backaches and headaches were going away, for the most part. If I was about to have an episode of flashes in the middle of class, I can assure you, there would be more then enough fighting from me to work off my frustration.

We all had gathered, quite awkwardly, in the office, where we were directed into a room with a particularly unattractive burly man-lady and told to sit down and shut up in exactly that way with exactly those words. Reluctantly, knowing we would be punished further if we did not comply, we all sat down, heads on the desk and waited out our punishment.

I let my mind wander, which I knew was a bad idea. Often when it wandered it found gaps and tried to burrow in, feeding me images I couldn't piece together. I wasn't in the mood to deal with these flashbacks. I wasn't in the mood to do _anything _so maybe this detention wasn't so bad. The awkward, bored silence filled the room, making me sigh, trying to make myself fall asleep. My efforts were in vain. A low hiss escaped from my mouth as I sat up and rolled my shoulders, the familiar pain from those scars shooting up and down my back. My spine tingled in response, as if the surrounding pain was making it nervous and my body wanted me to know it was uncomfortable. Yeah, _I_ was uncomfortable too, in case it didn't notice.

A nudge made me look to the side, seeing Dib, looking at me with slight concern.

_You okay?_ He mouth, peering at me.

I nodded.

"Hey, you two! No communicating! Move to the back of the room!"

Dib shot me a wary, hesitant look before standing, "Yes, sir-MA'AM! Yes, ma'am!"

Zim snickered from wherever he was sitting, as did a few other people, until we were all told to shut up again or we'd be facing _more_ detention time. And so we were more silent then before, if that was at all possible. I continued to stretch and roll my shoulders as much as I could without drawing attention from the man-lady. She had never said anything about sitting still but I felt it was implied. The pain only smoldered in my back and I finally sighed, stopping my attempts at relieving at lease _some_ of my discomfort. It was clear that I would be getting no relief from this and that I was just going to have to tolerate it, whether I wanted to or not.

A striking image shot into my brain and my eyes shot open, though no one could see, as my face was burried in my arms.

It wasn't really anything, but it was the first time something had been _clear_ to me. Not a jumbled mess of fuzzy images and words that I couldn't decipher but a real thing. Or, at least, I was pretty sure it was real. Either way, I felt like I had made progress. Silently, I removed my notebook from my bag and a pencil, going to work with the image fresh in my mind.

I didn't know how long it took but eventually, I was mostly done and held the notebook up a little, to get a better view of my creation. Granted, I wasn't a bad drawer to begin with but this little piece of work would probably be one of my better creations. Probably because it was based off of something real, but still.

I need to learn to pay more attention to my surroundings.

* * *

This was boring as hell. All I could think about was that I could be doing something productive right now, like researching or updating on the latest sightings from the Swollen Eyeball or making sure Gaz was okay. Which she seemed to be _now_, recovering from whatever had made her grimace and flinch so violently. Having been moved to the back of the room, I couldn't quite see what she was doing now, just hunched over something and working at it. I began wondering if she was playing her GameSlave on mute, but I couldn't be sure.

Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one who wanted to know what my sister was doing.

In a movement neither of us caught, the detention-dictator snatched my sister's notebook from her hand, examining it herself. I saw my sister jump backwards, clearly not having expected that movement. It seemed we were both particularly unobservant today. However the sudden gruff action had caught everyones' interest, making us all very attentive.

"What is this?" The rather burly woman demanded of my sister, turning it sideways. "There is no doodling in detention!"

"It's mine! Give it back!" Gaz made a snatch at it, furiously, but the woman jerked it away from her grasp. She made an irritated hissing noise and I could only wonder what her face looked like. "And I wasn't doodling, I was drawing!"

"Same thing," The woman scoffed, finally seeing the picture from the right angle. A brow that probably had never experienced a waxing or tweezers raised, an unimpressed scoff coming out of her grotesque mouth. "What is this anyways?"

"None of your businesss!" Gaz snapped in reply, her nails digging into her chair, probably to keep from attacking a staff member.

The woman held it up for all of us to see, "No? Then maybe you'd like _everyone_ to see! Maybe it's _their_ business!"

Gaz became unaturally still and I looked up, wondering what was so bad that she was throwing a little fit about it. I mean I knew artists were sensitive about their drawings and Gaz was a testy person to begin with, but it wasn't like she ever showed particularly reluctance to me seeing something she had drawn. She didn't make a habit of drawing but from what I had seen she was pretty good with a pencil. They were normally drawings of the characters from her videogames, easy things to draw, but as I was handicapped when it came to sketching they might as well have been classical works of art.

And then I too became still. I could sense that I wasn't the only one who recognized the image Gaz had roughly drawn, the various faded lines contrasting largely with the bold, definitive lines that were apparently there to stay. But you could see it easily enough. The mannish woman was right about one thing; it wasn't much. Unless, of course, I guessed, you knew the significance of it, which was a mystery to even me.

Gaz had created an authentic-looking view of the ocean. It wa a strange kind of view though, an angular one, as if you were far above sea-level and looking down. The break in ground confirmed that the setting was on a cliffside, somewhere near the water and yet far above it. The details in the surrounding rock were unsure of themselves except for one spot in particular, which Gaz had darkened considerably, those spots that were defintive and staying. A surprising amount of detail had gone into that rock, as if the rest of the picture was irrelevant save for that one spot. Like it held something of great significance.

And I was pissed.

Not at Gaz, no, of course not. She hadn't done anything wrong. But at the fact that she was probably humiliated because this drawing, for whatever reason, was important to her and being flaunted about like it was trivial and unimportant. Call me a sap or a sucker for the sentimental, but this was injustice and this injustice was being done to my sister.

However, before I could intervene, someone else did it for me.

"Will you just give that _damned_ piece of paper back to her already? Your mannish voice is not pleasing to listen to, nor is your appearance even remotely bearable. You making a ridiculous display of yourself is only making it worse for _you_. Now take your own advice, sit down and _SHUT_. _UP_!"

The whole room was silent. The woman stared at her verbal attacker, who dared her to challenge him with a single and (while I'll reluctantly admit) menacing look. She scoffed though, shaking it off like it was nothing, though I was pretty sure I could see her eyes starting to water. And I was suprirsed to find that, for once, I was seeing someone cry and didn't give a damn.

"Fine . . .! It was a shitty drawing anyways!" With a loud slap, the notebook collided with the ground and I saw Gaz flinch, as if she'd been stuff. But the woman paid no mind. She sniffed and everyone shared looks of disbelief that said the same thing; _Was she seriously crying?_ "I'll be right back. SIT DOWN AND SH-SHUT UP!"

Finally breaking, she burst into tears and raced from the room. For a few seconds as the echoes of her tears and footsteps faded, we all remained silent. And then someone let out a low, impressed whistle that started off the beginning of the conversation.

Because I mean come on, I'm all for rules but you really expected us to be quiet?

"Geez, Zim," Zita commented, disapprovingly but at the same time not truly caring, pulling a nail-file from her backpack and working on her manicure. "A little harsh there, huh?"

Zim shrugged, not seeming particularly concerned as he examined the room, boredly. "It's not as if the ugly little monkey-woman didn't deserve it. She was asking for it, harassing her students. There is a fine line between discipline and cruelty, one an administrator such as herself should know _and_ respect. Besides, if she cannot handle harassament herself, she should not be giving it. _Especially_ to students."

People nodded and shrugged their agreement to Zim's little rant. Gaz retrieved her notebook and examined it, holding it in her hands. She scrutinized it but did not pick up her pencil again.

"You're awfully protective of her," A boy sneered, catching the attention. "What's your angle? You trying to get into her pants or something?"

My eyes narrowed. _Him_ I recognized as the boy who Zim had almost gotten into a fight with earlier today. Gaz had also told me he was the reason _she_ was here as well. And he was _still_ trying to poke at my sister and Zim? I mean, if you someone else wanted to have a go at Zim, by all means, they could go ahead. But when you brought _Gaz_ into it, there was a line I had to draw.

I wasn't the only one drawing lines.

Gaz slammed her notebook down, shoulders shaking visibly. Zim, too, not one to be outdone when it came to being pissy and angry, looked livid. However, Zim wasn't the one who stormed over in a shockingly quick movement and punched their harasser in the face. The boy was knocked off of the chair and slammed into the floor, howling in agony and surprise.

I stood up in alarm, "Gaz!"

"You're going get in trouble!" Someone else shouted, warningly, although the anticipation of a fight was evident in their voice.

"I don't _**give a fuck**_!" She shrieked in reply, kicking the boy hard in the stomach. Everyone winced, a few people looking like they were going to be sick from the violence (obviously, none of them from _our_ Skool).

I decided he'd had enough and not wanting my sister to get suspended on her first day, I restrained her, forcing her to sit down in her chair again as she shouted such a stream of curses I was embarrassed _for_ her. I didn't understand half of her words and I was pretty sure she was swearing in various langauges, as Gaz had an unfortunate knack for picking up curse words when people shouted them. I had no idea how she knew, whether she looked them up or otherwise, but from the display she was currently making there was no doubt that she knew them. Everyone gave her looks of shock and surprise, the few bilingual people recognizing her phrases and snickering, quietly translating to the rest of the room. Someone thought to help the boy back up and he seemed just as bitter as ever, if not worse then before.

Eventually (mercifully) my sister ran out of words to say. Although it was a good three minutes before she did so. That might not seem like a lot, but when you felt every one of those seconds, let me trust you, it feels like a _lot_ longer.

Finally she took a deep breath, sighing and regaining control over herself.

"Thank you," She stated curtly to me, my signal to release her. It wouldn't be the first (and certainly not the last) time I had to restrain Gaz from beating the absolute crap out of somebody before.

I nodded and sat down, next to her, taking her notebook in hand and examining it.

"Where is that, anyways?" Someone asked, curiously, Gaz's little outburst apparently having amused everyone and put them into better spirits. Gaz held out her hands for her notebook and I gave it to her, quite willingly. She took the time to examine it before answering.

"I don't know," She replied, bluntly, offering no further explanation. People shrugged and began talking amongst themselves and I just sat there, watching my sister. Gaz was generally a hard person to read but at that moment I knew exactly where her thoughts were; she was sitting in detention, trying to piece her memories back together.

I faultered, holding my hand out to touch her arm, though not quite sure what I was about to say. "Gaz-."

She turned, looking at me with a decidely confused and somewhat irritated expression on her face. And then I realized she wasn't looking at me, but over my shoulder, past me. I turned and saw Zim, throwing a wadded up piece of paper (which he got from who knows where) at the roof. It was unatural and unnerving to look at. His wrist continued to flick, in a disturbingly quick movement and the ball would suddenly shoot towards the ceiling before bouncing back, within a second of being thrown and Zim would catch it again effortlessly. I resisted a shiver. Sometimes, it was at your own risk and disadvantage when you observed your opponents.

However, he seemed to take notice he was being watched and looked down from the roof, towards the pair of us.

His brow rose, eyes flickign between the two of us. "What?"

I opened my mouth to respond, a scathing comment already in mind about his ugly appearance or poor disguise, when Gaz interrupted.

"Why _do_ you keep helping me?"

I froze.

* * *

The words were out of my mouth before I could really think about them. But even as Zim stared at me and I did have time to think about them, I didn't regret them.

It was happening a lot, I realized. Both directly and indirectly, Zim was helping me, making my life just a little smoother. And I didn't like it. I felt half-inclined to owing the guy and I didn't like owing _anybody_. It also made me question his motivations; what would helping me gain him? Or was he doing this out of something else, some motive I hadn't already factored in? His hesitation was making me think so.

And then he sat up more, removing his feet from the table. My gaze flicked his boots, seeming to be the same or similar to the material his gloves were made of. Vaguely, I wondered if they felt the same and then reminded myself, harshly, I had never _really_ felt those before either.

"I haven't been," He said, harshly, daring me to argue with him.

My eyes narrowed back. I was in no mood to be submissive. If he wanted an argument, he was going to get one.

"Yes, you _have_," I retorted back, icily. For once, nobody paid attention to us, save Dib, but probably only because it involved the two people in the world he was the most concerned with. Me, because I was his sister and Zim because he couldn't see him breathing anywhere without thinking it was a plan for world domination.

"Oh, I have, have I?" He countered, in obvious disbelief, folding his arms across his chest doubtfully. He made a gesture to me, "Please, explain."

I held up my fingers, counting off the times. "The first day of Skool."

"When?"

"The locker thing." I stated, vaguely enough for Dib not to have any idea what I was talking about and for Zim to know _exactly_ what I was referring to.

Zim scoffed, "My own benefit, as I stated. The smell was-."

"Unbearable, yeah, yeah, you've whined about it more then enough." I waved his words off, continuing. "When I tripped."

Dib, by now, was completely ignored, although the look of wide-eyed panic and confusion on his face was probably incredibly amusing. Although now was not the time; I was in an argument. And I intended to win it. I hissed, irritated. All of his answers were obnoxious, annoying and coincieted but worst of all, they made sense when one took into account his twisted logic. But I was relentless. There was more. So much more it was unnerving but, at this time, useful, given the situation. His brow rose and for a moment, I tasted triumph. And then he sneered at me, laughing at the roof again.

"You were so pitiful," He stated, mocking amusement lacing his voice. He looked over at me, sneering. "It was simply an act of mercy for me to assist you."

Anger and embarrassment flared through me. I felt my cheeks beginning to redden and opened my mouth to retort when a clear, authorative voice rang out. We turned to see the man-lady at the door-frame, glaring daggers at us, her face red and puffy from recovering from her tear-fest. My lip curled in disgust. What a damned whiner.

"You're all dismissed. Get the hell off the property!" And then she spun and left.

Our surrounding classmates shrugged and continued their conversations. I checked the clock; we'd only served half the time we were supposed to but I wasn't about to point that out.

"Come on, Gaz," Dib urged, turning me away from Zim, shooting the alien a look over his shoulder. I didn't quite catch it though, too pissed off to pay attention. I was _right _and this was just-! _**UGH**_! "Let's go home."

He placed his arm around me and I hissed, stiffening, having forgotten the pain in my back. Immediately his arm recoiled and I felt two pairs of eyes bore into me.

"You okay?" Dib questioned, looking alarmed and concerned.

I shook my head, waving off his concern with a flick of my hand. I could still feel that pair of contacted eyes on me, burning into my back and oddly, I shivered, hugging my arms tightly around myself.

"Fine," I stated. "Just a little pain in my back. I'll just take an Advil when we get home."

"She's just being nice, Dib." Zim's voice suddenly cut in. "If you touched _me_, I would hiss too."

Dib shot Zim another look I didn't see. I noted the carefulness Zim's voice now held, the cautious ease; he wasn't so smug anymore. I shot my own look over my pained shoulder. His body matched his face. He was very still, choosing every motion carefully. My eyes narrowed in what I knew was only frustrated confusion and I shook my head, touching my forehead as I stormed out of the room, forgetting my things. Thankfully Dib thought to retrieve them and I heard him mutter something to Zim before coming to chase after me. No doubt it was some threat to him about what would occur if anything, mainly Zim, threatened my well-being. I couldn't care less. I was frustrated and humiliated, for some reason, and I didn't like it. At all.

"Hey!" Dib shouted, catching up to me, lowering his voice, "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said, glancing down at my hand. Dib was stupid and hadn't noticed it when it was cut. By now it was healed, for the most part and all of it was just a memory. That whole ordeal was nothing now.

I clenched my fist at the irony.

"I'll be fine."

_Perfect_, I added in my head, shooting a look over my shoulder, though Zim was nowhere in sight.

_Just as soon as I figure out what the hell is going on._

* * *

These chapters are getting kind of long.

Ah well.

NO MORE FILLER. I'M_** DONE**_ WITH FILLER! Besides, I've already wasted 13 chapters on memory. Now we need to get to the REAL, underlying plot.

All will be explained in due time. You'll understand soon enough though.

TILL THE NEXT, NON-FILLER CHAPTER!


	14. Revealed by the Bonfire

TODAY WAS A GOOD DAY! Anyone else thinking that? Also, like I said guys, watch out for the flames or they'll burn your ass when they come out of nowhere! No, I'm not setting the school on fire again. But- OH! JUST READ!

**"I'm not afraid I'm  
Lost in you  
Everywhere I turn I'm finding something new  
Lost in you, something I can't fight  
I cannot escape  
I could spend my life  
Lost in you!"  
- Lost by Red, also an inspiring/fitting song **

Yes, as I said, I have stopped stalling.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 14  
"Revealed by the Bonfire"**

I didn't want to be here.

And at the same time, I had to be.

We were all surrounded by each other, the whole Skool, even the other half of our Skool that we'd been separated from. So technically three Skools (including the one the other half had been sent to) were on this hell-hole of a beach, awkwardly mingling with one another. This was the district's attempt for some type of unity between the two of us all, as while the other Skool's merging hadn't gone quite as poorly as ours had, things weren't exactly good on their side either. Despite what the district thought would happen separated friends were reunited and talking to each other and ignoring everyone else. No one was making any real attempt to converse whatsoever unless a teacher walked by, where everyone would speak to the first person next to them from another Skool until they were gone and then go back to talking to their friends. No one gave a damn about anyone else.

And I was no exception.

Dib and I sat next to one another, although he was at least trying to be polite and friendly while I sat, boredly. It was Friday now and the sun was going to go down soon. And yes, it was New Years. Parents had been livid when they'd heard their children wouldn't be spending the holiday with family, instead being forced to this little picnic/bonfire/firework show but the district was the district. They could really do whatever the hell they wanted and while people wouldn't be exactly _happy_ about it, we'd cooperate. Everyone was just that damn spineless.

"Come on, Gaz," Dib urged after he'd retrieved his food, sitting beside me. "It's not _that_ bad."

I shot him a nasty look. "You're kidding me, right? Dib, we're lucky we're not freezing our asses off right now.

"Hehe," Dib laughed, awkwardly, rubbing his neck and looking towards the sun, which was on the verge of setting. It was halfway down, as it had seemed to be for the past hour, all the while the surrounding teenagers taking pictures of the damned thing. "Global warming for the win."

I rolled my eyes at his stupidity, lying down on the log I was sitting on. There seemed to be an infinite amount of these things, for all of us to sit on. Sure, people had brought chairs and tables as well but my preference was to sit on the log. Or, well, I guess in my case, lay on the log.

A loud shriek of indignation caught my attention and I tilted my head back further, seeing upside-down and not minding much. Dib, I knew out of instinct, did the same. I smirked at the sight before me.

The only slight kick I was getting out of this was watching Zim, the boy who was 'allergic' to water, run around on a beach next to the largest body of water on Earth; the ocean. I was positive if we all weren't being forced to be here under threat of expulsion, he would've found a way out of it. A forged doctors note or a fake, sudden illness that immobilized him and kept him on house-arrest. Right now Zim was running away, screaming, from a table full of water, which had just been offered to him, the students' outstreched offering still hanging in the air as they watched him with mild confusion and greater alarm.

Dib sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know why nobody sees him for what he really is."

"Maybe you're trying to hard," I suggested, uncharacteristically of me. I normally wasn't a helpful person but considering I wanted nothing more then for Zim to be far from both my person and my mind as of late, I couldn't be happier to assist Dib in making his life a little more miserable then it probably already was. "If you had let people see him for a weirdo in the first place, he might've seemed more alien-like, without you running around like a freak in comparison."

Dib opened his mouth to object and then his eyes widened, contemplating. I smirked at his thoughtful, frustrated expression when I got bored and rolled easily onto my feet.

"I'm going to go walking around in the tides," I called to him, carelessly. A nod was my affirmation that he had heard me and I shrugged, more then happy to be alone with myself.

I made my way to the tides, not interested in what anyone else was doing. A few people were already around the tidepools, a few of them wet from losing their footing and falling into the tiny, life-filled puddles. For whatever reason they all seemed to be leaving, probably having their fill of the mini aquariums and going off to dry and get food. I preferred it this way. If I was alone, no one bothered me. It was easier for me to enjoy myself when I wasn't benig constantly reminded of everyone elses stupidity.

"ACH!"

I hissed under my breath, spinning around on my heel.

_Speaking_ of stupidity-.

A loud splash and then another scream filled the mostly silent air and I waited, unconcerned. I watched Zim once again dance around, shaking the water from his sizzling skin like a dog. He panted heavily when his little ordeal was over and I just gave him an unhumored, bored look. When he had recovered fully he slicked his fake wig back, as if making himself presentable again, though it made no difference to me.

"Are you following me?" I demanded.

He gave me a look of disbelief, scoffing. "Why would you think the Almighty Zim was following anyone?"

"You and water don't mix," I pointed out, gesturing to the puddles surrounding us, which made him quiver a little, proving my point all the more. "So why else would you be here unless you were following someone? And," I said quickly, cutting of his reply, which I knew was coming as soon as I saw his mouth open. "As no one else is around, I can only make the assumption you were following _me_."

He scowled, contemplating his answer. I crossed my arms, waiting expectantly, wondering what ridiculous excuse he would come up with this time.

Finally, Zim smirked, admitting defeat for once. "Clever, for a human female."

"Thanks," I retorted, through narrowed eyes. "Now what do you want?"

"I wanted to speak to you about what you were talking about earlier, little human," he stated, picking his way (extremely cautiously, I noted with amusement) over the tidepools until he stood only a few feet from me.

My brow rose. Recently, and this I realized with ever-growing uneasiness, I'd had quite a lot of conversations with Zim. Moreso then we'd probably had in my lifetime. It was . . . weird. But because we'd had so many talks to choose from, I wasn't quite sure which he was referring to.

"Your theory," He said, arms behind his back, seeming to examine me critically. What he was looking for, I had no idea, but it only made me feel defensive.

I hissed, getting irritated, enunciating each word with severity. "Which _one_?"

He seemed impatient as well, as if the answer should've been incredibly obvious. "Your theory about my assisting you. Frequently."

Now I knew why my instincts had put me on edge. I shied away from his gaze automatically, my jaw setting as I turned my attention towards the sunset. From my peripheral vision I saw Zim's eyes narrow, probably studying me carefully, trying to read my mind. But my head was none of his business and I was going to offer nothing of it to him.

"Forget about it," I stated, moving further away from where the general population was, feeling like this was about to take a turn for the worst.

I was right. And I was pursued.

"Zim forgets nothing!" He shouted, following after me, not moving quite as gracefully as I was but more then quick enough to keep pace with me. "You _will_ explain to me further what it is you were thinking I was doing!"

"I don't have to explain anything to you!" I snapped, angrily, moving at a quicker pace, darting to the less rocky areas and moving to the ones with larger and more frequent puddles, purposefully. Yet even still Zim followed me, seeming hell-bent of bothering me.

Struggling now and having lost some distance, Zim shouted, "Do it anyways!"

I didn't turn around, shouting over my shoulder, glad no one was around to hear us yelling for some reason, "Why should I?"

If he answered me, I didn't hear him, as I came face-to-face (metaphorically) with a cliff wall. I stopped, confused as a wave of deja vu came over me and I placed my hand on the rock wall, confused. Zim caught up with me, panting heavily, apparently not exactly as agile as I was when it came to manuevering. This wasn't surprising; not many people could keep up with me. Honestly, I had to give Zim his props for being able to tail me, even if he was losing distance.

"Gaz-human," He said, between his heavy pants, hands on his knees. "You are the most _annoyingly_ agile creature I have ever-!"

"Shut up," I ordered, darting off to the left, going off of instinct. I heard him scream at me a demand.

"Get back here!"

I ignored him, picking up pace. I went from a quick walk until eventually breaking into a run, shooting easily over the tidepools, splashing through a few of them and probably disrupting a few ecosystems on my way but I could care less. There was something familiar about this place and this was a first. I was being irrational but I was okay with that, for once. This irrationality was entirely justified.

"Gaz, _wait_!"

I was surprised at how far away Zim's voice was and stopped, turning to see him at quite a distance. For some reason I was tempted to wait for the little idiot when I turned my head and caught sight of a somewhat hidden man-made pathway cut into the cliff-wall, winding upwards. So intrigued by the familiarity of this was I, that I decided not to wait and jumped over the last of the tidepools and headed upwards. I heard Zim shout at me again but I took no notice. There was something here. I didn't know what, but it was here.

I walked briskly, moving slower and slower the higher I got. I got to a few points where I had to physically scale the damn thing, the pathway not exactly a well-made one and was growing less and less energized. I was beginning to second guess this little trip of mine when I shoved myself over the next 'shelf', rolling a little before coming to a stop and looking up. I made no move to get up from the floor, too stunned by what I saw.

A cliff-side.

With a view of the ocean.

And that damned rock.

"My drawing," I muttered, finally making my way onto my feet, moving slowly.

There was plenty of room. I brushed my hand over everything, marvelling at the fact these rocks did not feel foreign to me. They felt like lost friends, people I hadn't seen in a while. I closed my eyes, stopping, trying desperately to figure out why I remembered this. I came up with nothing and so sighed, opening my eyes again and looking around. When I had done this I glanced towards where that view of the ocean was, between the two rocks. A perfect view of the sunset. Hesitantly, I made my way over to the edge, peering downwards, well-aware of how dangerous it was to be standing precariously at the edge.

"_Damnit, Gaz, answer me! Where are you?_"

I jumped, thankfully aware from the edge, my hand to my chest. I scowled, hissing at the direction Zim's voice had come from. It was pretty close but I still had a few minutes. I rolled my eyes.

"He never gives up, does he?" I muttered to myself, making my way back over to the edge, looking down. It was quite a drop. I could see no sharp rocks portruding and it seemed there was nothing but ocean below me.

I gasped and doubled over, holding my hand to my head as a wave of memories came crashing at me like the waves that were hitting the rock.

* * *

_"That," A point downwards. "That right there is why I hate your planet."_

_"Don't worry. My planet hates you too."_

_"Oh, I've no doubt about that."_

* * *

I groaned, blinking at the ocean as it seemed to shift places, multiple appearing as my vision doubled. My eyes began to roll into the back of my head and I wasn't aware my feet were shifting along with my surroundings.

* * *

_"And you are?"_

_"Bored off my ass."_

_"Oh . . . Well, that's unfortunate for you, I suppose."_

_"And if you would like to know who you are, you are a **pain** in my ass."_

_"Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly charming?"_

_"Oh, all the time."_

* * *

I felt my head roll up to the sky and my hand reach out, to grab onto something. I wondered why I had done this when I sat a shadow move up over the ledge, hearing its breath just barely over the sound of the ocean and the sound of my memories filling my mind. And I saw it get up just as I fell backwards, my feet finally losing their hold. The thing that I was dominantly aware of was that it_ hurt_.

And then I was falling.

"GAZ!"

* * *

_"What do you want?"_

_"How about some cooperation? I am doing this for YOUR benefit, after all. Zim is getting nothing from helping you and your stupid sibling."_

* * *

_"Do you hear that?"_

_"Hear **what**?"_

_"It's the sound of me, not giving a damn!"_

* * *

_"Gaz, you've got to be careful!"_

_"Of?"_

* * *

_"You're in no condition to be moving!"_

_"You don't tell me what I can and cannot do!"_

* * *

_"And how are you feeling this hellish Earth-day?"_

* * *

I was aware of when the water and I met. Somehow I'd fallen in pencil-form, probably the only thing keeping me from breaking every bone in my body (at the very least) right then and there. I couldn't breathe and I didn't try to. The images continued to rush past me, my past, but with clarity for once. I thought that was horrible irony as I realized I was about to drown.

It was a marvel I wasn't _already_ dead and I struggled, making myself move upwards, or at least what I assumed to be upwards. The sun was finally setting, much to my amazing timing and I heard the sound of blaring music from underwater.

_The fireworks must be starting_, I though, tiredly.

I noted the bubbles going out of my mouth and realized I had opened it, clamping it shut and getting a mouth-full of seawater for my troubles. I began gagging and using up the rest of my air, realizing I was drowning before I could stop myself from panicking. I squeezed my eyes shut and gritted my teeth, forcing myself to keep swimming, fighting against the underwater currents that threatened to drag me under.

When my eyes began drifting shut and I felt like my lungs were about to burst, the pressure of the water surrounding me, I realized that I hadn't tried hard enough.

A shadow moved in front of me already hazy eyes.

I found myself gripped suddenly but I was convinced that was the water's pressure beating down on my frail body. Because it really _was_ frail now. Delicate and fragile.

. . . So maybe it was best if I died now.

But the unbearable tugging around my waist brought me to attention. That pressure was all that was keeping my mind from slipping into peaceful damnation and it was annoying. I tried to fight against it but my struggling was weak at best, if not entirely nonexistent.

A strong, far too familiar gloved hand wrapped around my wrist, then jerked me upwards, the last of my bubbles bursting out from the movement. I couldn't breath but I didn't dare try and suck in water, knowing better even in my delirious state. I tried to see through the murk of the water but could not, only aware that whoever was grabbing me was incredibly warm. I made myself kick, swim, do anything to help, so that I wasn't so damned helpless.

We broke surface and I coughed wildly, my hair swarming my eyes, blinding me. The water slapped into my eyes, stinging them and I hissed in pain. I realized with surprise that my hiss was mingling with another and tried to to move my hair but failed when I was jerked again.

Another wave of memories, as well, as water, overcame me and whoever.

* * *

_"I wonder why that is-."_

* * *

_"I didn't go, you did."_

* * *

_"You were lying through your teeth-."_

* * *

_"I always do."_

_"I know."_

* * *

_"-Because I-!"_

* * *

_"How would you feel if I told you-?"_

* * *

I came to again, this time on my side, my eyes closed, my hair stuck to my face and neck, hiding it from view. I was on sand and something smelled burnt. For a terrifying moment I thought I was in that Skool again, about to be burned alive, when a familiar ragged, agonized wheezing filled my ears. I peeled open my eyes, forcing my body to roll over onto my side.

And there was Zim, on his hands and knees and shaking harder then I thought was possible. He looked on the verge of collapsing but his face was strained and tight, like he wouldn't allow himself to do so. I realized my own breathing was just as strangled, though not nearly as bad as Zim's was. Weakly (and I was stunned to find out just how weak I was), my eyes trailed over his uniform and what little skin was revealed, all of which was making a sizzling, sickly noise that made my stomach churn. It was dark now and I couldn't see much until the fireworks shot into the sky, illuminating both of us and giving me a real view of just how bad Zim looked. I felt the urge to vomit but held it in, closing my eyes and focusing on regaining my air.

And it was because of this this that I recovered quicker then Zim and hauled myself onto my hands and knees, looking over to see that he had given in to his weakness and was now lying in the sand on his back, eyes closed, but clearly awake. I spat on the ground in front of me, getting the sand out of my mouth, though the taste of ocean refused to leave me. I felt an undying urge to take a shower, the water making the stand stick to any part of me that it came into contact with.

Glad that I'd thought to wear a swimsuit underneath my clothes, I pulled my soiled shirt up over my head, resisting the urge to wipe my face against it, knowing it would only make me all the more grimier. I continued to spit and cough, thankful I'd had the sense not to inhale underwater. My fatigue, however, was great, my brain having taken a large tole with those flashes.

But now I had answers.

And Zim wasn't going to get away with his excuses this time.

I was on my elbows and my knees, coughing, tears streaming from my eyes. I wasn't upset, no, in fact, I was elated. But the salt of the ocean had gotten into my eyes and now I was paying for it, both of them burning as they expelled the foreign element.

"You," I coughed out, in a scratchy, damaged voice that sounded choked, like I had no air. My lungs hurt. I didn't know why. I tried again. "You . . . saved me."

Zim didn't reply, his ragged breathing my only confirmation that he'd been in the water with me.

"Why?" I demanded, putting as much force in my tired voice as I could. It wasn't much but it was enough.

But he still wouldn't answer me. I felt like I was being ignored though, not that he wasn't awake. Another firework sparked into the air, the faint sound of music reaching us. I looked over to the bonfire that was now ablaze, shivering. I wondered if I would ever be comfortable around fire again. I glanced over at Zim as a spray of fireworks shot up, illuminating Zim's face once more. His eyes were open, confirming the fact he was ignored me, even if they were half-lidded. I was surprised to find that his disguise seemed to have disappeared. Whether it had dissolved in the water or he'd removed it before coming to retrieve me, I couldn't be sure, but it was gone and I was taken, for a moment, by the sight of his vibrant red eyes.

I jumped in surprise as an icy chill reached my foot and looked down, panicked. The tide was going up, lapping at our feet. I flinched as Zim let out a scream of agony, recoiling weakly into himself, trying to get away but having no energy to do so. The scream hurt my head and radiated through my body, shaking me to my core. I looked over at Zim's feet when another firework lit us up again, seeing them sizzling freshly.

I hissed, frustrated, but knowing I owed it to him, I crawled upwards on the beach, behind his head. And being at this vantage point, I gripped him by his forearms and used the rest of my energy to drag him quite a ways up the beach, onto dry sand. I didn't know how long I was dragging Zim until I lost my resolve and collapsed onto my side, curling into a ball, my hand on my stomach. That urge to vomit was there again and it was harder to shake this time, especially since I was shivering and weak all over again.

"I want . . . answers," I gasped out, painfully.

Zim was quiet still and I didn't expect an answer. We both laid there in the cold for who knew how long when I felt myself blacking out again. I fought the urge, knowing that if I passed out, I would wake up in the hospital. I needed to be awake to insist that I was fine, but that didn't stop my eyes from drifting shut.

Eventually I came to, the sound of beeping and Zim's voice waking me. I was frustrated that I had indeed fallen asleep but only was able to half-open my eyes. I came face-to-face with a shirt and became aware I was being held by someone. For a moment I thought it was Zim until I recognized the material of the shirt as well as the familiar black trench coat wrapped around me.

". . . Think they're getting worse?" Dib's voice questioned, fading in.

"I wouldn't know what it is that's getting worse," Zim countered. "But I would assume her condition is worsening, considering how fragile she is as of late."

I closed my eyes again, pretending to be asleep. I felt like being unconscious was giving me an advantage. I had no idea what they were talking about but I had a feeling I was going to find out soon enough, if I was patient and listened instead of letting them know I was awake.

I felt my brother's grip on me tighten, protectively. "Should we take her to the hospital?"

The thought nearly made me stiffen but I resisted, hoping they wouldn't notice I had stopped breathing.

"No," Zim said and I felt a hand, obviously his, tilt my chin upwards, probably to face him. "She knows now. I can treat her myself at your home. Is your father home tonight?"

"I don't know," Dib admitted. He paused. "So, what are you going to do?"

Zim didn't reply.

My brother's voice hardened with severity. "We can't hide this from her forever!"

Zim sighed and I felt us moving, his hand disappearing. "It's better this way. But it seems you are right, as this time, we cannot pretend that _you_ are the one who saved her."

I felt a sense of triumph. I wasn't going to be lied to anymore. I was going to get explanations. Someone was going to tell me what I had seen, explain why that had happened.

In a way I knew that my past would lead to this all along; a final confrontation that would lead to a very long, very detailed story. I had expected it from Dib. I had thought of the possibility of my father explaining. Never had I even considered that _Zim_ would be any part of those three months, although I suppose it really should have been obvious.

And thus satisfied, I allowed myself to go back to sleep.

* * *

This was a horrible attempt at a dramatic scene, but alas, I always intended to Gaz to fall off a cliff into water and make Zim save her to prove that indeed, he was willing to go through a lot to keep her safe. I wanted there to be more arguing between Gaz and Zim and her to be more delusional but this how it turned out and this is how it shall stay!

So next chapter we get the full explanation. It may or may not lead into two, depending on how I make the story go. Originally the explanation was much, MUCH later but again my story has taken me I didn't intend to go.

Can't wait to update the next chapter!

Till then!


	15. Long Overdue

YES! NOW YOU WILL ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENED AND I CAN START REFERRING TO IT!

Geez, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to write this!

**"And it's killing me when you're away  
And I wanna leave  
And I wanna stay  
And I'm so confused  
So hard to choose between the pleasure and the pain  
And I know it's wrong  
And I know it's right  
And even if I tried to win the fight  
My heart would overrule my mind  
And I'm not strong enough to stay away"  
-Not Strong Enough by Apocalyptica**

**An amazing song you should listen to. It pertains a lot to the character development of Zim and how he views Gaz in this story.  
**

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 15  
"Long Overdue"  
**

We had lucked out. My dad was nowhere to be found.

I leaned against the wall, watching Zim work over my sister with skilled, careful hands. Gaz was asleep, sighing occasionally while he continuously scanned her, through her grime, of which we could really do nothing about without fully undressing her and giving her a bath. And as I wasn't about to let Zim see my sister naked and I wasn't about to violate her personal space, we had to do with cleaning what we could reach. I was the one who actually clean her, as Zim had had his fill of water for the day. He actually looked so disturbed he left the bathroom while I washed her arms and face off, brushing at her clothes and feeling slightly uncomfortably when I brushed at her chest. After that I figured she was as good as she was going to get for now and carried her back to her room, where Zim had laid towels on the bed, so that the beach remains wouldn't get on her blankets.

"How is she?" I asked him, breaking the silence.

Zim scanned her once more, a frown on his face. "She seems to be uncomfortable."

I scoffed, glaring at him. "No duh, Zim. She's covered in sand and ocean water. I'd be uncomfortable too if I was her."

Zim shot me his own glare. "That's not what I meant!"

Carefully, he lifted my sister and rolled her onto her stomach. Gaz shifted in her sleep but did not wake. I didn't think much of it until Zim's claw hooked the back of her bathing suit and began pulling it down.

"Hey!" I shouted, stunned and irritated. "What do you think you're doing?"

Zim shot me a dull, impatient look. Even though he had no irises, I could tell he was rolling his eyes. "Relax yourself, stupid Dib-stink. Zim is only tracing the source of your pain. Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

I scowled, crossing my arms and leaning back against the wall, having shot up at Zim's rather bold motion. "Fine. Just watch yourself."

Zim nodded, apparently not in the mood for an argument. He pulled it down considerably, stretching the material to its farthest reach, until the majority of my sister's back was exposed. I felt bad for her, being handled so blatantly in her sleep, but it was for the best. And I was here so it wasn't like Zim was going to try anything. Not that I expected him to, but I would feel better if my sibling was there to watch out for me when I was unable to look after myself.

Zim pulled until he revealed two, familiar marks on her back.

"Ah," He stated, plainly. "I assumed as much."

There they were again, those two marks that had long been seared into my mind. Except now, prior to the last time I had seen them, seeming on the verge of healing at the hospital when Gaz had been in a coma, the cuts were red and vibrant, glaring at us almost. I shivered, wondering if Gaz really could feel those scars.

"I'll put the solvent on like last time," Zim explained, reaching into his PAK and removing a familiar, unlabeled tube.

His PAK legs came out, holding the swimsuit down for him as he squirted the foul-smelling liquid onto his gloves, applying it skillfully on my sister's cuts. He seemed frustrated but focused, watching to make sure he had done it correctly. When the stuff seeped into the wound and the red inflammation began to die down, Zim seemed satisfied and let the swim suit back up, covering my sister up again.

"Thanks," I muttered, reluctantly.

Zim simply shrugged, "I am an Irken of my word."

"What are you going to do now?"

He sighed, wiping his hands on his already dirtied uniform. He eyed himself with disapproval.

"Firstly, I am going back to my base to cleanse myself properly." He stated, placing the tube back into his PAK. "Your sister shouldn't be awake for a few hours. I will return before she does as no doubt she will want to speak to me when she wakes."

I nodded my agreement. Besides, there was nothing more we could do right now anyways.

* * *

I woke up tiredly, feeling a towel-like texture beneath me, which I noted was odd. I realized I was on my stomach and pushed myself to my feet, feeling in desperate need of a shower.

"Gaz?"

I rolled onto my backside, sitting up and looking to my left. Dib was there, reading something as he sat at my desk, looking hesitant to approach me but concerned nonetheless. He seemed to be struggling with the decision to remain where he was or come forward.

"Where's Zim?" I demanded, through my teeth. I wasn't going to be lied to again.

Not this time.

Dib pointed, "Downstairs, waiting for you to kill him."

I gave him an unamused look.

"No, I'm serious!" He said, holding his hands up defensively. "That's what he told me!"

I huffed, moving to stand up and hissing. My back felt stiff, probably from sleeping in an odd position for who-knew-how-long. I lifted my arms above my head, stretching out, trying to loosen the tension. I felt disgusting. I made the decision that if Zim was waiting to die (an outcome that wasn't entirely unlikely) then he could very well wait a little longer. It would be near impossible to find anyone more pissed of then I was at that exact moment. By the look on Dib's face, I was pretty sure he knew that.

"Get out," I ordered, going to my closet to retrieve a fresh change of clothes.

Dib nodded, probably glad of the excuse to leave and took off, darting out my door and shutting it carefully behind him. I removed a fresh pair of everything, careful not to touch the clothes too much, in case my hands were still dirty. I stripped only when I entered the bathroom, not wanting to get the filthy clothes on my bedroom floor. Stepping into the shower I noted with ever-growing disgust the amount of sand going down the drain, shivering at the fact that had all been on my skin and in my hair just moments ago.

"Stupid beaches," I muttered, scrubbing shampoo into my hair.

The shower was a great idea, I decided, once I had cleaned myself. A glance at the clock informed me it wasn't_ too_ late, only about 9:00 or so. There would be more then enough time for a lengthy conversation and if there wasn't, then I would listen for as many days as it took. I sighed, placing my undergarments on and a tank top, as well as a pair of shorts. Over this I wore a robe, wrapping it tightly around myself and heading to the only other used bedroom in the house.

The sound of typing was well-heard through Dib's cracked door. Even before I approached I knew he was probably on his stupid Swollen Eyeball account, correcting the facts of _some_ stupid myth or another, probably to take his mind off of the impending doom I might have waiting for him. Which I would, if he didn't choose his next words carefully.

I opened the door silently, watching him type, before clearing my throat. A small satisfaction bloomed in my chest as I watched him jump so hard he fell off of his chair and was then forced to scramble back up (with quite some difficulty) onto his feet to face me, eyes wide. My expression never faltered however. I was impassive and unreadable, save for the minor tick of irritation that my face normally held. In one small but demanded movement, I lifted my hand and gestured with a single index finger for him to follow me. With another movement of pressing that same finger to my lips, I told him to be quiet. He nodded and I turned, stepping silently down the hallway, towards the stairs, well aware of my obedient follower.

I wasn't quite sure what I would find at the bottom, not entirely confident that I would be able to handle the situation. But this was necessary. And there was almost nothing I couldn't handle. Although the 'almost' had yet to be encountered, I was never one to get cocky.

My footsteps were silent, as were Dib's (sinceh he apparently knew what was good for him, for once) and I peered around the corner carefully, not finding Zim in the kitchen. I turned to look the other way and stilled, crossing my arms and placing a hand against the wall.

Zim stood, arms behind his back in a very military-like form, not relaxed in the least. Even if I could only see his silhouette against the moonlight (the lights remaining off, for whatever reason) the tenseness in his posture was extremely evident. He was uncomfortable. The slight shiver that shot down his body every few minutes confirmed that he could very well be scared. I smirked, inwardly.

He damned well better be scared.

* * *

"Zim."

I spun around, eyes wide, tense and trying not to look so surprised. But it was a vain effort, as I could tell by the slight tug at the corner of her mouth that she was well aware I had been caught off guard.

"Gaz," I replied, my voice steady, nodding my head at her.

It was our only form of greeting. Curt, very business-like. And I couldn't deny just how _wrong_ it felt. This girl who I knew so well knew nothing of me and until she understood, she was going to treat me like the enemy. Because in her eyes, I _was_ the enemy. I had her history and as far as she was concerned, I'd been keeping it from her, dangling it before her face like a taunt. Something to hold above her head, just out of reach, for the simple sake of watching her squirm.

And it wasn't true in the least.

It took me a moment to notice Dib, just at the edge of shadows, looking like he wasn't sure what to do. I scowled at him. Leave it to the Dib-monkey to be awkward and unsure when he needed to be at his most confident. He gained reassurance of his place, though, when Gaz shot him a glance and pointed to the chair opposite her. Obediently, like an earth-pet, the squeamish little worm placed himself in said chair, hands in his lap and looking at me with insecurity.

Gaz ignored me entirely, for the time being, sitting down on her couch with far more grace in her movements than a human should be allowed to have. She pointedly glanced at the opposite side of the couch, where I was presumably supposed to seat myself. I did so, trying to hide my uneasiness, not sure which approach I should take or which one would be the most beneficial. Right now though, I doubted there was anything either myself or Dib could do to curve Gaz's anger. We sat there, Dib rather awkwardly, me slightly nervous but otherwise indifferent and Gaz giving me a scrutinizing expression. Her eyes burned into my skin and I shifted, uncomfortably, examining my feet.

"Are you just going to sit there or are you going to start talking sometime soon?"

I looked up at her, unsure of myself. ". . . Where would you like to start?"

Her eyes narrowed, looking at her hands. It seemed by the slight twitchiness of them that she, too, did not quite know where to begin. Her deliberation gave me time to edit up a story, the truth, what was necessary and what was unimportant and insignificant. I wracked through the events, taking out my perspective and making it clear and unbiased. She would appreciate that.

. . . Hopefully.

"When did you get involved?" She finally questioned, her voice cutting through my thoughts, like it always did.

I smiled. Now I knew where to start.

"You came to me," I began, "With your brother."

Her brow rose. "And?"

I laughed. "And he begged me to save your life."

* * *

Dib made a slight noise, a kind of irritation in his voice, but his indignation was ignored.

My brow raised and I glanced between the two, not sure how I should be reacting. "Save my life?"

"He's over-exaggerating." Dib insisted, shooting Zim a warning glare.

Zim scoffed.

I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, a bit unnerved, not sure who I should believe. I decided to be on the safe side and not make my decision until the story was over and urge it to continue. "So what was wrong?"

"Your brother didn't _need_ to tell me what was wrong. The mere fact he brought you at all was obvious on what he needed help with. You looked terrible." He paused, to smirk at me. "Even worse then you normally do."

My warning gaze urged him to continue before I ripped his eyes out of his head. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and continued.

"At first, the stupid Dib-stink was throwing wild accusations at me. _ME_. Pfft! As if the Almighty Zim would waste time infection _you_ instead of _him_! If I really _had_ created a disease that could tear a human apart from the inside out, I would've given it to him, not wasted my efforts on _you_. When faced with the amazing logic of Zim, he had no choice but to believe that I truly had nothing to do with your idiotic problems.

"It was quite hilarious really," He added, with a smile. "One second he was threatening to kill me, the next he was on his knees before me, begging for my help to find what he could not."

"Hey!" Dib shouted. But with a look from me he was silent, practically melting into his chair, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"And you did?" I pressed, trying to keep him from bragging too much (or not at all, really) and just tell me what had happened.

He nodded. "Yes. We made a deal."

My brow rose and then I snorted and shook my head, looking towards the side. I should've known Zim wouldn't just help me for the sake of boredom or the chance to experiment with a human. "What kind of deal?"

"What else would I be interested in besides your brother's lack of interference?" He retorted, as if it should have been obvious (which it was, but I wasn't about to let _him_ know that; Zim probably thought I was stupid enough as it was. There was no need to add fuel to the fire).

I snorted in disbelief nonetheless. "He gave up hunting you to help me?"

Zim nodded, "And any evidence he had. I did a full scan of your house and took every bit of his investigative material and had it destroyed. That was the deal."

Well, that certainly wasn't expected. I looked to my brother, who had his arms crossed and was looking at his lap, as if embarrassed.

"Why?" I asked, unable to stop myself. Realizing he was being spoken to, Dib looked up and smiled at me awkwardly, as only Dib could.

"You're my sister," He stated, as if this explained everything, which in Dib's mind, it did. "I had to do whatever I could to save you, even if it meant giving up exposing Zim."

That struck a sour note inside of me. Dib's biggest case and he'd let his lifework be destroyed for_ me_. I was starting to feel sick.

As if following my train of thought, Zim added, "You felt incredibly guilty when he offered. Especially when he handed over what he had, completely prepared."

I glared at him suspiciously. "How would you know that?"

"It's human nature. Plus, I saw your face."

I hissed at him. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Dib scowling disapprovingly as well, although I'm sure it held nothing compared to _my_ glare. Zim continued.

"I took you soon into my labs. Your brother insisted on supervising of course." This was said with an eye roll that confused me. Zim apparently took notice and decided to explain. "I'm an Irken. And an Irken keeps keeps their word. The Dib-monkey had held up his end of the deal and I was going to do the same. I wasn't going to hurt you."

Those words reminded me of my dream again. Immediately I looked at my lap, frustrated. He seemed to be waiting for something. Thankfully, Dib chose this moment to start an argument and (however brief it was) it gave me time to compose myself.

"How could you expect me to trust you? You've lied since the first day we met!"

"How dare you call Zim dishonorable!"

My sensitive ears picked up on the slight sneer in Dib's voice and I tuned back in. "It wouldn't be the first time you did something backhanded."

The rather insinuative tone made my brow rose. For a moment I was tempted to demand answers but something about the tenseness this created within Zim kept me quiet. And so while Dib taunted Zim and the alien continued inwardly squirming, it was quiet.

"What did you find?" I finally asked, in both an attempt to fill the silence and to possibly figure out what Zim's expectations of me had been before Dib had intervened.

By his pause, I could tell I didn't say the right thing. But he answered me anyways, composing himself with an unnaturally smooth movement.

"Nothing . . . at first," He said, folding his arms behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. "Yet I knew you were suffering from an unbearable amount of pain, since I'm well aware of what you are capable of handling and you were admitting discomfort. I figured you were dealing with an amount of pain the strongest of your species couldn't handle."

I shivered, again and he paused, probably giving me time to process this new information. Although really, all of it felt both familiar and foreign to me. It was hard to believe but at the same time it all made sense.

"So . . ._ eventually_," I said, stiffly, struggling to get the words out without making them sound strangled. "What . . . did you . . . find?"

Zim made a face I couldn't understand and said, with complete certainty, "After a full body scan, we found . . . scars."

My head snapped up, having a feeling I knew what was coming next. "Where?"

Zim eyed me carefully, keeping my gaze. He held my eyes with his own and despite my brains protests, for some reason, I found myself keeping his look. He seemed satisfied with this and while I wasn't entirely sure why, I could only guess it was because I had not looked away. In the end, Dib was the one who had to answer.

"On your back."

This recaptured my sense and I turned away, looking at the floor, slightly embarrassed with myself. I let out a slow, slightly unsteady breath, accepting this. "So they're not from the accident?"

Again, Dib replied. "No. They're not."

I allowed myself another breath. From my head trickled something familiar I couldn't help but voice. "My skin was tearing itself apart."

"In theory, yes." Zim confirmed, matter-of-factly. But there was a certain strain in his voice. The fascination of my problems had long since run out on him and turn into frustration. A glance towards his face also informed me that my problems might have nestled themselves somewhere deep inside his mind and become, through what I instinctively knew was no intention of mine, his own.

"How did you reverse it?" I finally asked, seeing his mind had wondered away from the situation at hand, while I'd been having my own musings.

He looked at me, regret and apology in his vibrantly red eyes. "I . . . couldn't."

I froze. A memory rolled, much easier then ever, into my head. Before I could stop myself, I said, "You could only get it to stop."

He seemed surprised at my sudden recollection of events, possibly debating on whether or it was an assumption or I really _did_ remember a little. Both he and Dib shared a look and I found it funny how easily they could put their differences aside when it came to this little deal. Ironic how I, the creator of chaos, had suddenly become a symbol of unity.

"Eh . . . correct." Zim finally stated, confirming what I already knew and turning to look at me again. "For two months, I spent nearly every day with you and your brother, trying to fix you."

"You said it was a disease," I noted, scowling at the discrepancy that had gone temporarily unnoticed. "Why didn't we go to my father?"

"I asked you that," Dib said, piping in again.

And for once, I was glad that he had a tendency to be nosy.

"And?" I pressed.

"You said you didn't want to be experimented on, 'like that time with you and your stupid Pig-Curse'."

I snorted and he laughed. Our momentary amusement eased some of the tension in the room. When it became quiet again, I could tell he was wary. I let him squrim uncomfortably as I took all of this into careful consideration.

"So," I finally said, relieving them of the uncomfortable silence and glancing at them both. "You just kept giving me preventatives?"

Zim nodded, "It was all that could be done until I could get a full understanding of the human body. It took me a week straight of working just to get the formula medicine to work, not to mention keep them from harming you. I was just grasping the way your systems worked when-."

He stopped and I was tense.

There was quiet and Dib's hand lifted as if to touch me, despite being a good few feet away from me. "Gaz-."

Bitter laughed came forth from my mouth, interrupting him. "You'd think, after all this time, I wouldn't be so sensitive about it."

"It's a situation not even _you_ could have been for." Zim stated, both solemn and reassuring.

It made my brow raise. "Was that your version of a compliment?"

He smiled at me. "You'll find that Zim thinks very highly of you, little Gaz."

Alright. Now that one threw me. I hissed, defensively, my automatic reaction to something I hadn't quite expected. After weeks of being the bane of my existence, I was supposed to accept this idiot and me were _friends_? A chill of fear ran down my spin and embarrassment flushed to my cheeks as I thought of my dreams and the very real possibility we could have been more. A deeper terror churned in my stomach at the idea we hadn't, but I had wanted it that way. Whether he was ignoring my discomfort or simply oblivious to it, I couldn't be sure, but he continued talking nonetheless.

I was curious as to how Dib was reacting to that statement if I was reacting this way but as I turned to him, the phone rang and he turned away from me, towards the kitchen.

"Leave it," Zim said, with a shrug. "It's hardly more important then this."

"It might be the Swollen Eyeball." He mumbled, getting up.

My eyes narrowed furiously. Really? I was getting an update on things that I should've been informed about a long time ago and he was worried about his damned club?

"That's hardly your priority right now, Dib!" I snapped, acid in my voice.

Dib shook his head. "I'll explain when I get back."

And he left, answering the phone in the other room. He was speaking quietly, probably so as to let Zim continue explaining without his conversation interrupting.

"What does the Swollen Eyeball have to do with me?" I demanded of Zim, channeling my frustration at him, since there was a lack of Dib in the room.

Zim hesitated. Then he shook his head. "It's just a theory of your brothers. He's using their archives to further research your problems."

"Oh . . ." For a moment, I felt bad again. And then I got irritated becaus this was Dib, someone born for the pure purpose of being my kick-me-dog (at least in my opinion) and I was tripping over myself like a toddler. I quickly corrected myself, huffing and crossing my arms tightly across my chest. "That's stupid."

"You remember when you accused me of helping you, right?" He questioned, observing my ceiling again.

I nodded, stiffly, and then spoke when I remembered he wasn't looking at me. "Yeah? What about it?"

"You were correct in making that assumption. Ever since you returned to Skool and when I was not being cowardice enough to hide from you, I was helping you. Any benefit of my own benefits was just a bonus."

A new ice slipped into my voice. He scowled.

"So what you're trying to say is," I hissed, my eyes focused on his, which would not look at me, "You've been lying to me."

"To protect you," He insisted, rolling his eyes as if I was being immature. "I'm well aware of the repercussions of such pain-bringing memories on a human being's mind. Your body had already become frail. Your head did not need to suffer as well. You were better off without your memories."

"That wasn't your decision to make!"

I became aware that I had jumped to my feet, though whether it was before, during, or after I had started screaming, I was not entirely sure.

Zim looked up at me with his own form of defensiveness. However, for once, I could see right through him and I knew that he knew, as it was obvious by how he was gritting his teeth and straining almost imperceptively. Yet the same and guilt showed through in his face, his eyes, just something so pitiful about it. I almost pitied him but I didn't.

"But," he insisted, defiantly. "It was one that I got the _opportunity_ to make. You should be thanking me."

"_THANKING YOU_?" I demanded, gripping him by the collar of his shirt and hoisting him to his feet. "You little worm! Do you know how much I've been agonizing over this? The fact that I had _nothing_ to go off of? The fact that everyone else was running my life because I didn't have the information to do so on my own? You and Dib are lucky I don't kill you!"

A jerk of my arm and he was sent sprawling on the floor, the noise of impact sounding a lot worse then I had intended. But I wasn't about to regret it. Dib, of course, came running into the room, phone in hand, probably glad it was cordless.

"Gaz!" Dib shouted, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" I snapped, locking eyes with him, daring him to challenge me.

Dib hesitated and then held up the phone to his ear. Even I could hear the alarmed shouting from the other end. "Uh, no, she's just . . . being Gaz . . . No, I'm listening." And he walked out of the room again, shooting one last worried glance over his shoulder before becoming a muted piece to the scenery.

I sat down and closed my eyes, calming myself, taking slow, even breaths through my mouth. When I opened my eyes, Zim was sitting on the floor, his elbows on his up-bent knees, just watching me. I glared at him, debating whether or not I _should_ just kill him now. And then Dib too. I was positive he could tell what I was thinking but he just sat there, continuing to watch me, undettered by my brewing violent emotions.

Eventually, I spoke. "So now I now."

"Now you know," He agreed, evenly.

My eyes narrowed in irritation as I tried to deduce his line of thinking. It seemed he had regained his mask of indifference that he had apparently perfected in my brain's three-month absence. I should've known by now that Zim, despite being a huge spaz at times, could be unreadable when he wanted to be.

"What was your plan after you told me?" I pressed, trying to figure out what his motives were, if he had any.

He smirked. "Mostly hope you didn't kill me."

I smirked as well. So Dib_ hadn't_ been kidding. Interesting.

"Anything else?" I asked.

Zim shrugged, indifferently. "Well that depends on your willingness to cooperate with me.

"Cooperate with _what_?" I demanded, suspiciously.

He gave me a curious sideways glance. "At this moment, how opposed are you to a full body scan?"

I shifted, "Why?"

"I didn't stop researching after your accident." He smiled to himself, pridefully. "In fact, I worked considerably harder-."

"I'm not particularly interested in your work ethic, _Zim_," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. I crossed my legs, placing my palms flat on the cushions and using them to support my weight. "What do you want with my body?"

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. That was what I meant, but my wording made it sound otherwise. My eyes went wide and I stiffened, looking over at Zim, who looked every bit as surprised as I was. I looked down immediately, my hands balling up against the fabric of my couch, my teeth gritting. Already I could feel that annoying heat on my cheeks and I closed my eyes, wishing I had more control over myself at the moment. This was what I got for not being prepared and blurting out things before I could think about them. I'd always been an articulate person but something about Zim always made me speak before I thought. Maybe his stupidity was rubbing off on me.

"Yes, well, um." Zim cleared his throat and I glanced sideways, to see him rubbing his neck and looking at his lap. "Medical reasons."

My brow rose at his sudden discomfort. I peered at him without moving, my eyes narrowing as I tried to examine him in the poor lighting. Was he blushing-? I shook the thought off before it could blurt out of my mouth. No need to make the situation more awkward then I already had.

"Care to elaborate?" I questioned, proud of how monotonous my voice sounded. I crossed my arms, leaning against the back of the couch.

"You've gone unmonitored too long." Zim stated darkly. If I didn't know better, I might've though he sounded almost worried. "And considering how you've managed to beat yourself up over the past few weeks, I think it's about time for a check-up."

I recoiled away from him, like an animal that had been threatened. Nothing at the time made sense anyways, so I might as well act how I felt, so long as it was of no consequence to my person. Zim seemed surprised by my reaction and I gave him a venomous look that just dared him to try and come near me, armed with medicines or otherwise. He appeared frustrated and, dare I say, somewhat hurt. This expression nearly made me falter but I stayed strong, refusing to be sympathetic. I had every right to be pissed off right now and I was going to stay that way.

"Have you not been listening to a word I've said?" He demanded, his strange tongue flicking out of his mouth a little as he ran it over his teeth. It was a strange movement, one I did not understand the purpose of, but I wasn't about to ask him. "I'm not going to hurt you!"

"Why should I believe anything you or Dib have said?" I retorted, mumbling into my knees. It was rather childish but I hardly cared. I was going to do what I pleased. "You've been lying to me for over a month now. How do I know you're not still lying to me now?"

Zim and I shared a very tense moment of locking gazes. The electricity in the room was undeniable and it practically burned, making my skin crawl and my fingers twitch. I wanted so badly to do something to him. What that was though I wasn't sure and the fear of what I didn't know about myself kept me from letting my instincts move me. I would not allowed myself to be controlled by something I wasn't positive about. I had been reckless enough lately. I didn't need to make anything worse while I could do something to prevent it. And then he did something I never would've expected. Not even from someone as clinically insane as Zim was.

He laughed.

My eyes narrowed into slits, not understanding in the least what he was doing. It wasn't just little chuckles either, the idiot was full-on laughing, like this was the funniest damn thing in the world. I watched him in utter disbelief, trying to comprehend just what the hell he was doing.

Finally, he stopped, wiping a tear from his eye and turning away from me, walking towards the door.

"Back to square one," He laughed, making no effort to stop anytime soon. "Just like old times."

I blinked rapidly, clearly confused. Again, I shouted the first thing that came into mind. "You're insane!"

Zim stopped and turned halfway towards me, grinning smugly, looking like he'd just won something for this statement.

"About time you noticed." Zim tapped his head, lightly, still sneering at me. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd remember."

I stared at him, tense, ready to strike out at any moment. I doubted I'd need to but something about Zim's audacity was making me uncomfortable. He threw back his head and laughed again.

. . . What the hell was I getting myself into?

* * *

YES. FINALLY.

Now you know! And I can start referring to it! And next chapter we get into the LEGIT plot, outside of Gaz's head, although there is still that one problem I'm sure you've all forgotten by now (ironic, isn't it?)

If Gaz's injuries were from her 'disease' (which also needs explaining), why did she lose her memories?

Oh yeah babe. It's show time.

And YES, to all your reviews! This is gonna be a looooong story! So stay with me on this one!

I'm also planning another ZAGR. An AU (Alternate Universe) with assassins and forbidden romance and heartless murderers that are in charge of raising little children. Very IZ in my opinion so look out for "Surrender" (Don't count on that name, it's subject to change at any time) on the horizon!

Till the next chapter!


	16. An Alternate Theory

WOO! We reveal the bigguns in this chapter! Prepare to shit your pants!

**"Got a secret  
Can you keep it?  
Swear this one you'll save  
Better lock it, in your pocket  
Taking this one to the grave  
If I show you  
Then I know you won't  
Tell what I said  
Cause _two_ can keep a secret  
If_ one_ of them is dead."  
-Secret by the Pierces**

I want to apologize now, for the blandness I feel my chapters are going to have from now on, for a while at least. A lot of crap has been going down in my family and it seems like when one thing is done, the next comes up and as these aren't very easy things to resolve, I'm fairly distracted. But as I'm dedicated to my stories I will not take a break and continue to pump out chapters. What I'm saying I guess is that the strain and effort I'm making isn't exactly the kind of flow I might normally have in my writings. Now I'm not saying this GAURANTEED but if you notice, that's why. But I'm doing my best and always will. :)

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 16  
"An Alternate Theory"**

I knew very well that at any moment, she could turn on both of us.

But that was just the risk one took when dealing with Gaz.

Zim was half-inclined to tying her up, but this was said in what I assumed was a joking manner, although, by the wary way he kept eying my sister, I couldn't be entirely sure that he didn't intend to restrain my sister in some form or another. Honestly I wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of keeping Gaz under control but I really doubted tying her up was the way to go about things.

Plus, if we even got close to her with a rope when she was this testy, she'd probably gouge our eyes out and end our existence without a second thought. And if I was going to help my baby sister, I had to be _alive_.

I was driving, despite Zim's protests and attempts at insisting he take us in his Voot Runner. Gaz hadn't seemed to care either way, going upstairs to change into something suitable for leaving the house in, leaving Zim and I downstairs to argue. In the end, I had won by suggesting Zim go ahead and prep for our arrival, since his ship was obviously faster then my car, however hi-tech I had made it. So it was, unfortunately, just myself and a silent Gaz in the car. To say it was an uncomfortable situation for me would be an incredibly understatement but the constant reminder I was protecting her eased the tension, like it always did. Anything to help my little sister.

Even cooperating with the one creature in the world I despised more than anything.

"I hate you." Gaz suddenly stated, out of nowhere, ripping me from my thoughts.

My eyes widened and I looked down at my sister, eyes wide with surprise. She was not looking at me, but out the tinted windows, making the night look darker then it was. Her arms were crossed tightly, her arms lost in a large zipper sweatshirt. She had on jeans and of the shirt I wasn't sure, but I doubted she had really paid attention when dressing, more concerned with the information we'd just kind of thrown at her.

"I . . ." Honestly, I had no idea how to respond to that. My little sister hated me. Go figure. I mean I knew Gaz got irritated with me fairly easily, but never had she said she _hated_ me. Things I did, yes, but not me _entirely_.

Her amber eyes flicked to glance at me, waiting for my response. Upon seeing me staring (despite my normal 'eyes on the road' rule) at her, lips parted in a soundless response, her lips curled downwards into a frown of what might have been disapproval. Seriously, how was I supposed to react? Gaz had said a lot of mean things before that stung, but this one . . . I hoped she wasn't serious and that she was just pissed off.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She demanded, breaking the quiet, her eyes boring into mine, trying to rip and answer from my throat.

I cleared it, looking down as I came to a stop-sign. "I thought it was best you didn't know."

"No. _Zim_ thought it was best I didn't know. You two don't agree on anything. Don't lie to me, Dib. Why didn't you want me to know what happened?" She hissed.

I shuddered, my eyes squeezing tight and my hands gripping the wheel unnecessarily hard. I was thankful it was so late in the night and no one else was out and about. It avoided the confrontation of another car waiting impatiently behind me, honking while I gathered myself. Gaz was right, she deserved to know. But . . . I couldn't. As stupid as it sounded, if I said aloud what I was thinking, then it would become something legitimate to worry about. And another thing to worry about was the _last_ thing I wanted right now.

"It's just . . . a theory," I finally said.

Gaz's eyes narrowed, "That's what Zim said."

I didn't like that she was talking so much about Zim, like I was the worse of the two of us 'liars' but it wasn't like I could change her mind, if that was indeed what she was thinking. No matter what anyone said, no one had any influence over Gaz's thought-process. Events could, but they would have to be of a rather largely explosive generation. And even still, how she processed them was of her own decisions.

"Zim," I finally said, looking up and pressing my foot on the gas pedal once more. "Is psychotic. Also, he stole that from me."

I heard her snort in derision, writing me off as a useless source of information. So I elaborated.

"Alright, here," I said, with a complacive sigh. "I'll tell you as soon as I have significant enough information to satisfy any answers you might have, okay?"

This actually seemed to please her and she nodded. "Fine."

I decided to press my luck. "Do you still hate me?"

She considered this, observing the things passing by the window again, taking her sweet time. I knew she did this on purpose, to make people squirm, but despite knowing this useful information, it never ceased to make me uncomfortable.

"No." She finally said, affirmatively. "But keep anything else from me and both you and Zim will find yourselves lost in an eternity of darkness for the rest of your meaningless existences."

Again, I shivered, trying to laugh it off. But as the noise sounded weak and unatural I stopped and tried to keep myself from hyperventalating for the rest of the ride to Zim's base, a trail I had memorized from the near daily trips over the summer.

"So tell me about Zim," Gaz stated again, cutting into my head once more.

I stilled, careful to keep my body from reacting at all. "What about him?"

"Is he our friend, or . . .?" She left the other option for me to fill in.

I sighed, pulling up to the house and stopping. She gave a start, looking out, apparently surprised we had reached the destination without her notice. I smiled, just a little, wiping the small amusement off my face before she could notice and deliver some unjust punishment for my momentary mirth.

"I'll let him tell you," I said, plainly. Because _I_ sure as hell wasn't going to get involved in that mess. Nope, Zim was going to have to fend for himself on this one.

And I was going to watch him struggle with joy.

"Let's just get this over with," Gaz grumbled, decidely monotonous. She opened the door and I opened mine, both of us slamming my car doors shut and heading towards the green, glowing structure that was Zim's stupid base.

Gaz reached the door first and did not bother to knock, simply twisting the knob and opening it. Surprisingly, it was unlocked and she stepped inside like she owned the place. I rolled my eyes. Typical Gaz.

"ZIM!" She screamed, making me wince. I shut the door behind me, hoping she hadn't woken any of the neighbors with her shrill cry. "Zim, where the hell are you in this stupid house?"

I face-palmed, sighing. "He'll be up in a second, Gaz."

She shot me a look. "Well how was I supposed to know that?"

"Good point." I mumbled, crossing my arms.

"Your voice pierces my walls quite well. Congradulatons; you've become almost as annoying as Gir."

We both turned to the left to see Zim, leaning against the doorframe casually. Gaz seemed pleased by the fact she was being annoying and I knew than that she was going to be difficult for no other purpose besides being difficult.

"I'm curious." Zim continued, eying my sister boredly. "How much of my base is familiar to you?"

She glanced around and shrugged. "Nothing is familiar."

He glared at her. "That was hardly being observant."

"You are in no position to tell me what to do," Gaz warned, in a tone that made both me and Zim tense a little.

". . . Of course," I assured her, cautiously placing my arm around my shoulder. I figured that with her anger currently directed at Zim, she would allow me a little leniance. And I was right, as she (in a surprisingly trusting sisterly move) not only allowed the touch but patted my hand. It kind of made me feel like I was a pet, for a minute there, but it was better than being maimed. "Come on, Zim, let up; she's not used to you anymore."

I regretted how the words came out, especially when I felt Gaz tense under my arm. I'd made her sound like she couldn't handle herself, but in all fairness, I was just trying to protect her. Regardless of the extremes she could handle, Gaz was actually not as strong as she thought she was.

She shot me a dark look, but did not move from under my arm. A small triumph for me as she was trusting me enough not to stab her in the back, but I had known my sister long enough to know that I wasn't in the clear just yet.

"I'm well able to care for myself," She hissed at me.

I gave her a look that challenged the anger, one that held a sterness reserved for only older brother's to give to a younger sibling. Her brow rose at my refusal to back down.

"You're not strong enough to strain yourself." I replied, bluntly.

And like I'd figured she would, Gaz's eyes widened and she relaxed, looking down at the floor. I squeezed her shoulders supportively and she nodded, understanding I wasn't trying to be mean to her, just honest. It could very well be considered 'coddling' but she was allowing it. Gaz was out of her element here and she knew I was just trying to help. And that was one of the reasons that I didn't just leave her to Zim's care. Aside from the fact I didn't trust him for anything besides taking care of my sister, Gaz (though she would never admit it) really did need a stable support system. And since we had a lack of parental guidance, it was up to me to take the lead. Not that I minded but my self-appointed duty had its ups and down. Nonetheless, as I'd stated many times before, I was willing to do anything to help my sister.

Zim watched the interaction with an unreadable expression, glancing up from Gaz to look at me through narrowed eyes. It was a scolding gaze and I shot him a challenging look in return; I knew what he was thinking. He thought I was being mean by being so open about the information I gace her, but I didn't care. _Gaz_ knew I wasn't and that was all that mattered. The only thing keeping me from wishing for Zim's natural demise was the fact he was the only one who could help my sister.

"We should go," Zim finally said, a dark edge to his voice. I said nothing to his bitter mood. I owed him my cooperation and nothing more. I didn't_ have_ to be nice to _him_. "Please follow me, little Gaz."

Suddenly the patronizing nickname he'd given my sister seemed so appropriate. She seemed to think the same thing and cringed a little, but said nothing. She would not show weakness, even if she felt it. Again I squeezed her shoulders and saw Zim stiffen at her reaction to a name I knew had never really meant more then a teasing nickname to him and Gaz. But now it was different, because they weren't loosely (or so I'd figured) friends anymore. Gaz was . . . well, I don't know what to Zim, but he was an utter stranger to my sister, aside from what she knew standardly about him.

We followed him down the way we'd traveled many times and by the slightly waning wariness on Gaz's face, I could only assume that she recognized, at least subconsciously, the familiarness of this route. Nonetheless she leaned into me for support and I pretended to take no notice, so she wouldn't be embarrassed about being so uncomfortable here. Gaz had actually been here I remembered, once, to save me (really, just to get me so she could go to Bloaty's, but still, it counted) but obviously under these circumstances, meaning she _wasn't_ filled with righteous irritation, she was probably perceiving things a little differently.

"Where are we going?" She asked as we approached an elevator and she came to a stop, making me stop as well.

Zim placed his hand on the scanner, opening the doors. He watched her over his shoulder, probably choosing his words carefully. "Down to my lab."

I noted the absence of her name. I was positive he was avoiding it. But my sister just nodded and he stepped inside, leaving more then enough room for us to follow. With a gentle, almost unnoticed nudge from myself she moved forward and we got into the elevator, the doors sliding closed behind us as we began our descent into Zim's base. I glanced around, trying to see everything as new, trying to see things from Gaz's perspective. I remembered how amazing (and somewhat unnerving, as I still wasn't sure Zim wasn't about to just kill us both) it had seemed and now it was just something routine and as uninteresting as the corner of my own house. Not that Zim's base felt like home, no, but it was like Skool. You hated it but you were used to the surroundings.

We came to a stop on the 5th floor with a resounding 'ding' from the elevator and the doors slid open, revealing a lab that I had tried to destroy so many times and, up until recently, had been something I had wante to wipe off the face of the Earth. Ironic that it would be the thing that saved my sister's life. The three of us stepped out of the elevator and Gaz's hand found its way to the one I had on her shoulder as she looked up at the sheer impossible height the roof was at. After a moment of staring upwards though, an unreadable expression on her face, she stepped away from me and looked around. Both Zim and I just stood there, waiting for her to do something.

"Huh," Gaz commented dryly, crossing her arms and looking at Zim. "So what now?"

Zim too seemed unreadable and walked over to the silver table I'd seen my sister on so many times, gesturing to it before heading towards his controls. "Lie down on your stomach and remove your sweatshirt."

Gaz seemed reluctant, shooting me a look of confusion. I nodded encouragingly, knowing how awkward she probably felt. After a moment of hesitation she unzipped her jacket, revealing the same tank-top she'd been wearing as pajamas underneath. She tossed the sweatshirt at me and I caught it, holding it for her as she laid down, folding her arms and resting her chin on them boredly, probably trying to look as uninterested as possible.

"I'm just scanning you," Zim explained and it was weird, because I kept feeling like Gaz should know what was going on, but she didn't and so needed to be walked through the whole thing all over again. "It'll feel warm, like your sun-rays and you'll need to put your forehead on your arms, to cover your eyes, as your sight could be damaged if you look directly into it*."

"Whatever," Gaz replied, still sounding bored, doing as instructed. Her face disappeared into her arms and her hair draped over anything that her arms missed.

Zim hit a few buttons and in a second, a grid pattern was running across my sisters body, focusing on her back. I saw her shudder, for whatever reason and felt myself grimace sympathetically. Zim's eyes remained glued to his screen, continually pulling up new tabs that of information that screened through rows and rows of symbols of his language I couldn't understand. It took a little longer then usual, I noted, but I doubted Gaz would notice. Eventually though, it stopped and the grid disappeared, leaving Zim to decipher the information.

"You can sit up now," He informed her and I knew it was just in case she got temperamental. Gaz always got especially prickly when she was unsure of herself and I was honestly surprised she wasn't being more . . . well, bitchy.

I walked over and handed her back her jacket, which she immediately shoved her arms through, making no move to zip it up again. I figured she just wasn't willing to make the effort, probably exhausted by now. Even I had to admit I was a little drowsy but considering all Gaz had been through today, she must have been completely worn out. By the slight way her eyes were drooping and the lack of the sharpness they held, replaced by dull disinterest, I guessed she was a lot sleepier then she was leading us to believe.

And then my phone rang again.

I cursed, heading towards the elevator instinctively. The only thing that made me pause was Gaz's sharp voice ringing out in the air.

"Where are you going?" She demanded, that irritation I'd been waiting for in her voice.

I nearly sighed. Of all things, it was a cell-phone ring that set her off.

I turned to smile at her over my shoulder, my phone already in my hand, ready to answer. My smile was unconvincing though and I could see it in her eyes. I glanced to Zim to see he remained unaffected by the outburst, continuing his readings. Nonetheless, it was him who answered.

"Your devices interfere with my machine." Zim said, currently readjusting his settings. "He needs to go upstairs or the data could become inaccurate or corrupt.

"Be right back." I assured her before darting up to the elevator, flipping my phone open just as the doors shut behind me. "Hello?"

_"Agent Moth-Man?"_

"Speaking."

"_We believe we've successfully infiltrated the files withholding the information you wanted."_

I stilled and was suddenly incredibly nervous. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that this was what I wanted. "Yes, and?"

There was a brief talk off to the side, of which I could only partially understand, unable to get the gist of the conversation. But soon the agent had returned, speaking to me once more. I realized I hadn't been breathing but made no move to correct myself.

"_We think we can help you._"

Dib ground his teeth together, "What do I need to do?"

"_All you need to do is deliver us a blood sample. We'll do the res_t. _Think you can handle that?_"

He nodded, then spoke when he remembered he could not be seen. But his eyes were narrowed with anger. "Of course I can! What do you mean by _that_?"

"_Keep in mind that you're a child, Agent Moth Man. We're not risking your safety if you think you can't-._"

"I'll be fine!" He snapped, frustratedly. "You don't need to worry about me."

There was a pause.

". . . _Very well_. _When should we expect your results?_"

He hesitated, thoughtfully, glancing at the elevator. "As soon as possible."

* * *

*Yes. I'm stealing ideas from my MHNY story. THAT'S JUST HOW I PICTURE IT, OKAY?

OH SHIT.

Yes some of you have been complaining about Dib being a background, unnecessarily involved kind of character. Well that's cause his plot wasn't able to start till now.

What does the Swollen Eyeball have to do with Gaz? What's Dib's 'alternative theory'?

Wait to find out! I love writing this story!

Till the next chapter!


	17. Deeper Still

WOO. NO IDEA HOW THIS CHAPTER IS STARTING.

. . . Let's do this!

**"Beautiful girl  
On top of the world  
Don't fall down  
Because an angel  
Should_ never_, touch, _ground_."  
-Beautiful Girl by Broken Iris**

I've been avoiding a word, so as not to give you hints. Now scan and scrutinize my words. SCAN LIKE YOU'VE NEVER SCANNED BEFORE.

**PLEASE READ THE NOTE AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS CHAPTER. VERY IMPORTANT TO THE FUTURE OF THIS STORY.**

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 17  
"Deeper Still"**

I knew Zim knew I was watching him.

He continued to ignore me nonetheless. But now that Dib was gone, it was time for some serious accusations.

"You saved me from the fire," I said aloud, shattering the silence.

For a moment, I saw him stiffen. And then he laughed and nodded, "Your observance skills never cease to surprise me. Yes, Zim was your savior during that little incident."

"So why do the cameras show Dib?" I demanded, glaring harder, trying to get him to look at me.

He didn't, continuing to take notes as he spoke. Multitasking. It pissed me off, since I wanted his undivided attention but I doubted I would get it unless I was being violent or uncooperative and since I didn't really have that kind of energy right now, I would have to settle for answers. Well, at least I was getting _those_ now.

"Your brother created a distraction." He stated, simply. "And I ran in with his trench-coat. At the same time, he ran out into the woods out back. I contacted him where to meet me and handed him over to you, as well as returning his jacket, thus creating the illusion that _he_ was your savior, not Zim."

"A lot of effort just to trick me," I said in a low tone. A warning to choose his next words very carefully or I'd find the energy to scar that face of his.

He paused, thinking about what he was going to say no doubt. "It was . . . an effort to keep you oblivious and safe, as I said before."

"Are you so sure you wanted me oblivious?" I challenged, slowly removing something from my pocket.

Zim scoffed, "Of course. It was better that way, although, I suppose being you, the discovery of my involvement in your months had to happen eventually."

"If you were trying so hard to keep me in the dark, Zim, why bring me _this_?"

He turned at the same time I held up the butterfly, eyes widening as he stared at it. There was a long, deathly pause as I held it out in my palm, watching his every move with almost disturbing scrutiny. The slightest twitch of his antenna brought my attention to them and for a moment, I was distracted by them. There seemed to be hairs on them, like little feelers. It was weird. But at the same time, I felt a curious urge to touch one of them. But I shook the desire off, my eyes darting back to his face.

Finally, he sighed, "I'm so used to your brother overlooking things. I forgot how much of a pest you can be."

"Thank you," I replied, coolly. "Now explain. I know you left it in the puddle for me to find. Why? And why did you give it to me in the first place?"

Zim shrugged, eyes focused on the small accessory. "It was not Zim's to begin with. I couldn't keep what didn't belong to me; it didn't sit right in my squeedily-spooch. And if you would wear it," He gestured to a screen. "You'd see why I gave it to you."

I considered this seriously. He watched, waiting to see what I would do, a small spark of curiosity in his eyes. I supposed it couldn't hurt . . . _much_. Cautiously, waiting for it to be a trap, I slipped the little thing into my hair fixing, it appropriately. I'd barely clipped it in place when the screen, formerly blank, popped up with what seemed to be identical information to the larger one Zim was already examining.

"It's a tracker-relay," I said, bluntly.

Zim nodded. "Yes. Just another precaution to keep you safe."

I was surprised at how that stung and looked down, suddenly interested in my lap and getting the butterfly off. I ran my hand through my hair carefully, placing it back perfectly as if that was incredibly important. It wasn't a gift; no show of affection from Zim that I had allowed. It was just business. Something to keep me safe . . . Well good. It was less complicated that way.

When I looked up my brow rose. Zim was analyzing me, carefully, doing the same thing I was doing to him only moments ago. Upon meeting my gaze though he turned around, as if I suddenly held no particular interest to him anymore and he was back to reading his results like he'd been doing. The conversation was effectively over. I flipped the butterfly facing upwards, gripping it in my palm as I examined it. It was pretty and simple at the same time. Delicate and dark. The more I looked at it the more I realized I was putting too much thought into all of this and what I really just needed to do was stop thinking and take a nap.

It was almost a relief to me when Dib came back in, looking incredibly thoughtful and serious.

"Zim," He called, tucking his phone back into the pocket of his jacket. "I think we should do a blood sample."

I stiffened, my eyes narrowing. "Just who were you talking to, Dib?"

"Dad," He replied at once. "Wanted to know if we'd had fun at the beach. Why?"

"Just curious as to what made you walk back in here thinking taking a blood sample was a good idea," I mumbled, defensively. I curled my legs up against my chest, resting my chin on my knees.

"I would have to agree with that; What would the purpose be?" Zim questioned, antenna quirking questioningly as he looked at my brother over his shoulder. "I already have the makeup of the human body. What else do I need to-?"

"But you don't have Gaz's genetic make up," Dib interrupted. I wasn't sure if it was just because he was talking to Zim or something else but I noted that Dib would not look at me. At all. Not even with my suspicious death glare boring into his skin would he turn around. "How can you find an anomaly in a her body if you don't have a more detailed description of it? Scanning her isn't enough."

Zim seemed to consider this while I scowled at them. It was as if I wasn't here, like I was just involved because I was the one who was sick. Didn't I get an opinion or a say in whether or not I wanted my blood drawn? Apparently not, but I understood why they weren't asking my permission. As of now there was a mutual understanding that I would agree to everything that they said, because I had no idea what was going on. While I'd been informed of what had happened in my time lost, that hardly mattered. My eyes narrowed as a discrepancy appeared.

"I have her old DNA samples," Zim said, interrupting my thought process. "That should be more then enough. We don't have to do another one. It's excessive."

"It's _necessary_!" Dib shouted back. And then he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, just below his glasses, before continuing in a much more reasonable tone. "Look, Zim, something's changed. I know it has. Gaz was getting better, without your treatment. If it's getting worse we need fresh data to see _why_."

Once again Zim just stood there, contemplating, my brother looking like he wanted to strangle him. I was trying to ignore both of them and get back on track as to what revelation I'd had before their voices had broken off my thought process but it was in vain. The argument about me was just a little to interesting to ignore so instead I decided to try and make a decision about whose side I was on. Honestly I didn't mind needles much and I was positive a little pin-prick (probably less painful, since Irken technology was doing it) would be nothing compared to my back problems.

Huh . . . Skin tearing apart.

I couldn't really say it got much more painful than _that_.

"No." Zim finally said, turning away and back towards the screen. "This is enough."

"YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING M-!"

"Will you two shut up?" I snapped, rubbing my temples. "You're giving me a headache. Besides, I've got a say in this too, don't I?"

They remained quiet. I had there attention. Good.

"Well anyways," I insisted, choosing my words carefully in my head as I readjusted my hair, which was beginning to fall out of place from me playing with it so much with that stupid clip. "I agree with Dib. It can't hurt to have a little more recent information, right?"

Zim seemed to disapprove but Dib looked rather smug, shooting me an appreciative smile. But my expression shut him up, making his joyful appearance evaporate into an uncomfortable one. I wondered what I looked like; hair half-fixed, tired, frustrated and above all in pain. Dulled pain but I was positive it was there. Dib wouldn't have crippled so easily if it wasn't. Normally when I glared at him he still tried to act unaffected but instead he was looking at the floor like he'd been kicked. Ashamed. But he didn't need to be. A part of me wanted to tell him that I was extremely grateful for everything he'd already done and he didn't need to feel guilty but it was too far down to have any real chance of happening. Maybe when I was dying.

**_If_**, I reminded myself. _**If** I'm dying. Then my last words will be my gratitude to Dib. Although, that doesn't really make a lot of sense, since his efforts were obviously useless if I'm on the brink of death-._

*"Fine," Zim huffed, once again interrupting my thought process. I could tell by his tone of voice that he was slightly irritated. He ran his finger along what appeared to be a table from which a drawer appeared, sliding out smoothly and revealing a few devices.

He pulled out one of similar appearance to a syringe, except it seemed infinitely more advanced . . . somehow. The glass seemed crystalline instead of glass-like and the hilt was a dull black. As Zim came closer to me with it, even holding it out for me to examine before I was pricked, I noted shiny lines hidden in that black that threatened to light up at someones action, probably when the blood had been successfully withdrawn. After a few moments of allowing me examination, he snapped his finger and an arm extended down from the roof, handing him a cloth that seemed smeared with some blue, see-through substance. He proceeded to wipe the incredibly tiny needle with it, taking particular care to lather from the tip back.

I glanced behind him to wear Dib stood, leaning against the wall, eying this without any noticeable uneasiness. I was lead to the assumption that the reason was because this had happened before; obviously. If they had a previous test sample they'd have _had_ to do have done this before. Or well, Zim would have done it, I would have experienced it and Dib would have watched**.

"You won't feel anything," Zim stated plainly, holding out the hand without the syringe to my arm. "May I?"

Reluctantly I gave it to him, my eyes narrowing. "Aren't you supposed to have a tourniquet or something?"

Zim scoffed, as if this was preposterous. "No. I don't. Now hold still."

He snatched my arm up at once, gripping my arm firmly. I tensed automatically and he scowled, squeezing my arm a couple of times, waiting for me to relax. All the while, the needle hovered a mere few inches from the veins in the bend of my arm and I watched it with curiosity, wondering when exactly it was going to penetrate my flesh. I tried to make myself relax, assuming that was what Zim was waiting for, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not with him still gripping me so damned hard.

And then, as if reading my thoughts, his grip slackened. True, it was still firm but it didn't feel like I was being restrained. I began to relax myself a little, but not much. My gaze flicked up to his, which was eying my arm as if displeased with it. I closed my eyes, trying to calm down so we could just get this over with. It was starting to work a little when suddenly, Zim's fingers began gently massaging my arm, rolling the muscles in his hand. It felt weird but I was aware of the immediate weakness in my arm, everything going completely slack in his grip. I resisted a shudder at the weird feel of it but before I could truly comprehend it the needle was in my arm.

I stared at it as the gel merged into my skin because it felt more like a gel than a liquid. Zim was right; it didn't hurt at all. The device hummed a little and my brow rose, wondering how technology could fit into the lining of something already so small. It seemed to work the same way as a real needle and I watched as he drew back the pin, my blood filling the empty space it created. The crimson coloring made me curious. It was morbid to think it pretty but it _was_ a pretty color, after all.

"The gel numbs the pain," I noted, aloud, proud of how monotonous and uninterested my voice sounded.

Zim nodded, never removing his eyes from his task. "Yes. It momentarily deactivates the pain sense in the nerve for just enough time do finish this without any further discomfort on your part."

"Did you make it?" I questioned, my brow rising again.

He paused, making a face, as if deliberating on answering me. But when he held up the now filled syringe (the lights, as I suspected, now ablaze with an ironic red) I realized he wasn't paying attention to me anymore, instead heading over to a panel on top of the counter, putting the device into a slot needle-first and clicking it into place with a twist. I watched a small amount of it drain into the machine before I remembered my arm was still bleeding and looked down with alarm only to become confused to see it was not.

"The needle is to thin to make a mark large enough for blood to get through," Dib explained, sitting down beside me on the table with a smile. "You okay?"

I nodded, rubbing my thumb gently over the spot, cautious of any pain. But none occurred like I'd expected. I wondered if the gel hadn't worn off yet or it just wasn't coming but either way, it was fine with me. A little less discomfort in my life was exactly what I needed right now.

"That should be enough," Zim stated aloud, when the syringe-turned-vial emptied halfway. He walked back over to the syringe, twisting the vial and the illuminated black part a few times before it came apart with a 'pop'. And then it was just a vial. He walked over and handed it to Dib, to my utter confusion. "Here."

"Thanks," Dib muttered, slipping it into his coat packet, near where his cell-phone had disappeared.

My eyes darted between the two of them. "Why are you giving that to him?"

"Dib preforms his own tests, occasionally," Zim explained, casually. "When he becomes inspired with an idea or just wants to check something, he has access to his own samples instead of bothering Zim."

"Less contact," Dib explained to me quietly. And for some reason I couldn't help but smirk and shake my head inwardly. Even when they'd been working together for months, the two still couldn't stand to be around one another.

And that was when _my_ cell-phone rang.

Curious, I dug into my pocket, revealing the object. Huh. I must've shoved it in automatically, as I couldn't remember any specific thoughts to take the thing while I had been changing. Or it was there to begin with and I'd forgotten to take it out. Either way it was now ringing and the caller ID revealed it to be my father.

"It's Dad again," I stated, handing Dib my phone. "Go upstairs and answer it."

"Won't he be suspicious if I answer it?" He replied, warily.

I gave him a look of disbelief. "Of what, the two of us being next to each other? We're siblings, Dib. As far as Dad's concerned we're the best of friends. Now go upstairs and answer the damned thing!"

At once my brother was on his feet, hastily flipping the device open before he reached the elevator. Zim shot him a nasty look as the information on the screen wavered a bit before Dib disappeared behind sliding doors, the screens going back to normal. Zim just sighed and went back to work, running his hands across a few keys to readjust the settings (or so I assumed).

I shoved my arms through my jacket, warming myself comfortably. I watched Zim work and saw him scan carefully through a few more files before sighing, hitting a button dejectedly.

"**Analyzing.**" His computer announced out of nowhere, nearly making me jump. "**Processing.**"

"To be finished when?" Zim questioned aloud. My brow rose. I would feel strange speaking into nothing, but Zim seemed perfectly comfortable with it. Whatever. He lived here.

"**A days time. Two tops.**" It replied with a tone that challenged even my monotonous one.

And, now I knew why Zim didn't want more data to process.

Once again Zim sighed, turning to me and shaking his head. "You should head home. I won't be getting anything useful for, well, you heard my computer."

I nodded, getting down from the table. Zim accompanied me up the elevator, him seeming apparently frustrated by his computer's slowness. It explained a lot though; why his comprehension of my genetic make up took so damn long, as well as the time taken to create the preventative salve or whatever it was they did to me. Pill or otherwise.

My hand went flying to my head as an image of me eying a pill bottle flew into my mind, making me flinch and then growl. I thought I was _done_ with these flashbacks!

"Something wrong?" Zim questioned, hovering just a few inches away from me, peering closely at my face. I had a feeling this was going to become a habit of his; peering at my face when I wasn't paying attention. It unnerved me but as I would never fess up to that, he was just going to keep doing it and I was just going to have to deal with it.

I nodded, leaning away from him. "Yeah, fine. Just a small headache."

He scowled as the doors opened. I stopped paying attention to him and with his mumble, I almost missed what he said after.

". . . I'll see what can be done about my computers speed." He said, darkly. I turned to him, feeling slightly surprised, about to question him when the doors opened to reveal Dib, looking like he was about to go downstairs. It was slightly awkward.

I stepped around him and Zim followed.

"My computers need time to process the new data," Zim informed him, bluntly. "There's no use hanging around here when there's nothing to do."

"What did Dad want?" I continued, holding out my hand for my phone. It was returned and I slipped it back into my pocket, replacing it where it had been.

"He got home," Dib said, nervously. "Found us not there. He wants us home. _Now_."

My eyes widened, "But he's never home!"

"Yeah, well," He scowled, shaking his head. "I seriously don't know what is up with him. He's been home in the past month more then he's been in our entire life."

Even Zim nodded, "Quite. Isn't it a bit late for parental-unit bonding?"

"That's what I was thinking," Dib mumbled, looking far too concerned with what new trouble we were walking into to worry about the fact he was agreeing with Zim.

I rolled my eyes. It seemed I was the only sensible one here. I gripped my brother's wrist, dragging him towards the door. "Than we need to go now, before we lose anymore time, don't you think?"

"Right, right!" Dib agreed, nervously.

For a moment I thought I heard Zim snickering but when I shot him a look over Dib's shoulder, I found his back to me and I really had no way of knowing if he truly was laughing or not. I sighed, shaking my head as Dib and I got into his car.

This day was never going to end.

* * *

*Hit some inspiration there. Can you tell, comparing that detail to the rest of the blandness of this chapter?

**THAT sounds SOOOOOOOOOOOO wrong. ;D

GEEZ, THIS WAS PAINFUL TO WRITE.

That's why it's so short.

Sorry about that. As I said though, it's been a really tough week. Like, you have no idea.

SO, next chapter, Membrane reenters. And then the romancy, mysterious shit comes back into play. There WILL be the day you know everything! However, that is not the end of the story. And I'm willing to bet all of you missed what I was insinuating at the top of the chapter.

**Important Note: As you might've noticed, I keep talking about another story, a story I am now calling my baby. This story holds no ground for that story and being so elated and inspired, I am changing the way I'm doing things. As of this week, this story will be updated every two weeks. And my new story, filling that space, will be updated. So one week Story A, next week Story B, got it? It's a ZAGR and an action thriller, as well as AU. Trust me you'll love it if you read it. Sorry for the inconvenience.**

Till next time.


	18. Father Figure

Based this title chapter on the fight about to go down. So if it ends up not making sense, that's why.

GAH. MY SISTER IS WATCHING THAT TOP SONG COUNTDOWN THING ON TV AND GETTING ALL THESE OLD (but oh so classic) SONGS STUCK IN MY HEAD.

**"Daughter to father  
Daughter to father  
I don't know you  
But I still want to!"  
- Confessions of a Broken Heart (Daughter to Father) by Lindsay Lohan**

However I remain unaffected and decided to give you that song that I love so much. It needs no explanation as to why I put it in here.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 18  
"Father Figure"**

Oh geez.

I don't think Gaz realized how much trouble we were actually in.

Then again, _I_ was the one who had talked to Dad, not her. A glance at her in the passenger seat confirmed her underestimation of what the two of us were about to walk into. Out waaay past our curfew (another glance at the clock told me it was almost 1:00 in the morning), without a word to him about where we were going- it was completely rational for him to be mad at us. It wasn't rational, however, that he'd noticed our absence. First off, it meant my dad had come home; something he didn't normally do. Secondly, it meant he'd actually taken the time to remember we existed and look for us. This was horribly, horribly wrong. By the brooding look on Gaz's face I knew she at least understood _that_.

"Dad's been acting . . . a little too fatherly lately," She said aloud, voicing her thoughts.

I nodded. "Yeah. It's creeping me out. I hope whatever phase he's going through stops soon."

I made a face. Should I-?

"Ah, son!"

Both of us jumped at the voice coming from my car radio, staring at one another as we drove.

"D-Dad?" My voice cracked, embarrassingly. I saw Gaz roll her eyes in frustration as I cleared my throat, my grip tightening on the wheel. "W-What . . .? How did you get . . . in my car?"

"I simply entered into the frequency. I _am_ a genius after all, son; it wasn't particularly difficult." My father insisted, with an affectionate mocking in his voice. Like I couldn't possible understand. "That's what you learn when you get into _real_ science."

Ah. So that's why he was talking like I was six. No, like I was less than six because even at that age the way he sounded now had far less respect than it had then.

"Oh, right." I muttered, crushing the last of my positive attitude.

Gaz sighed, jumping to the point as always. "What do you want, Dad?"

"That's some way to talk to your father!" He huffed, sounding rather offended. Both of us gave each other looks. Since when was he sensitive to our opinions of him? "Really, daughter, a girl your age should have more delicacy in her manners than you do."

Her eyes widened to impossible sizes. I couldn't read a single thing on her face, frozen stiff like her body. It was only the abrupt shift of everything about her that made me aware she was actually quite pissed off. Interrupting whatever lecture my father was making (something about lady etiquette, although neither of us were really paying attention) Gaz hissed, both silencing him and making me inch a little away from her, despite the confinement of space the car held us in.

"My attitude is _fine_, thank you very much." She said, with such smooth venom in her voice it made my throat burn, although I couldn't really say why. "If I wanted to be 'charming' and 'lady-like', I could. But I don't. Why your sudden interest in my 'manners' anyways, Dad? It's not like you ever gave a damn about us during our childhood. What's the matter, you finally feeling your middle-age?"

"Gaz!" I shouted, eyes wide.

Of all the things that I'd thought she might've said, I never expected her to say _that_ to my Dad. I always thought Gaz and him were pretty close; closer than I was too him anyways. Maybe it was just the events of tonight. Considering all she'd been through today, I wouldn't blame her for being particularly testy. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest and said nothing, refusing to look at me as she gave my radio a death-glare. It was growing increasingly harder to concentrate on driving and I was glad of the lack of cars on the road at this hour. Only silence received Gaz's answer. I could just picture my dad standing there, goggles looking at nothing, as he held the phone to his ear, face emotionless as ever. I doubted that at the moment, after such harsh commentary from his own offspring, that he was radiating that same arrogance he normally did.

Finally, finally, he spoke.

"We will talk about this when you two return home," He said. I flinched at the dark tone his voice held. Even Gaz stiffened slightly, looking away from the box and crossing her arms just a little tighter. "Goodbye."

And he hung up, or so I assumed, as there was no dial tone nor should there be one. So technically, for all we knew, he still was listening. Gaz's suspicious glare towards my radio confirmed that she thought he probably _was_ still listening. The motion of her finger pressing to her lips confirmed that. I nodded my silent agreement and we drove the rest of the way in complete silence.

* * *

I was seething. The amount of emotions unfamiliar to me tonight was a number far higher than I wanted. The fact that it existed at all was an insult to my self-control. In theory, personally, I had to attribute this sudden lapse of my normal demeanor to the time, the amount of stress due to my situation and my brain trying to adjusting to said situation all combined into one hormone-fueled mess. Something to be expected from a teenage girl, although, I'd have to say this was the first time I'd really been affected by the things the children of my grade were normally plagued by. Save the occasional cramps my life was almost entirely unfazed by, well, 'female-problems'. Or 'teenage problems'. Either worked.

So after having felt so uncomfortably out of my element for such a long time, it was nice to feel pissed off. Or really, 'pissed off' just wasn't a suitable phrasing for what I was feeling. My tongue was burning from acidic words I hadn't spoken yet and my brain was already working on the careful phrasings, picking out which ones burned the most and tossing out the ones that didn't quite express the amount of venom I wanted. I was swimming in the glow of my anger, feeling myself return with each biting word. It wasn't so much that I was really mad at my father as it was that I was just taking advantage of the opportunity to be me again.

Tonight was certainly an interesting New Years indeed.*

I was completely unaware of the car ride. It was only when we came to a stop that I remembered we'd been moving in the first place. My teeth immediately set themselves, grinding together with irritation. Beside me Dib cleared his throat uncomfortably after he shut the car off, sighing.

"Gaz," He started, in a wary tone that was both insecure but well-aware of the intentions he wanted to express. "Don't be mad at Dad. He's just-."

"Since when do _you_ defend our father, Dib?" I demanded, in a low tone that made him shiver. But that didn't eve bring a twitch of a smile to my lips.

It was nice to be me again.

"I don't," He insisted. "You just shouldn't be taking your frustration out on him just because-."

Before he could finish I was out of the car, slamming the door in his face and storming into the house without a second thought. Nobody had a right to tell me when I could feel something; what justified my emotions and whether or not they were appropriate. Despite this, I knew that Dib was at least _partially_ right. I really did need to calm down. Fury would do, but eloquence was more important than making an entrance. I needed to save all of my energy for my words and put all my thought into thinking about timing what I said. That was what was important now, not letting out my irritation. Besides, there would be time for that later.

Curiously, a flash of another frustrated face popped into my head. One I had only just seen moments ago. Zim. I scowled, but not out of further anger, just confusion. What an odd time to be thinking about _him_. My mind continued to run away with itself as I began to wonder, faintly, if he was thinking about me. Or working on his computer. Or reading my data. Just in general wondering what he was doing. A low hiss from my own minds objection to this thought snapped me out of my pause and I shook my head, turning my doorknob and walking into my house, followed immediately by Dib. I wasn't surprised to find the only light on in the house the kitchen, which was emphasized by the darkness in the rest of our house.

"Children," My father's voice called from the kitchen. "Would you please come in here?"

We both shared a look, Dib silently pleading with me to be behave myself as I let my face reveal nothing. Regardless, I nodded my consent to behave myself and he seemed to relax considerably as we both made our way into the kitchen, silently.

He was the perfect image of a stern father; arms crossed, expression stern. I had to credit it to him, for someone who hadn't parented a day in their life, he played his role very well. A small incline of his head towards the table informed us to sit, which we did. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on, something my brother seemed very close to doing. Membrane eyed us a few moments before sighing, shaking his head.

"I do not understand you two," He began, in what I knew was about to be a length and heartfelt speech. I nearly gagged at the revelation but resisted, compensating with an inaudible sigh instead. "You disapprove of my absence, yet when I try to fill the shoes I've previously left empty, you disregard my attempts of bonding as a phase. Is this some teenage thing? Am I too late to be a parent?"

Both of us stilled. Out of all the things my father could've said, anything he could've yelled, I was positive neither of us had expected _that_. We stared at him wordlessly, trying to comprehend what we'd just heard and make sense of it.

"I think," He continued, when we failed to come up with words. "What you're wondering is why I chose now to do so. Well, I'm getting old. It's the simple fact of life that to live one must die."

Since when did my father mix philosophy with sentimental value?

"You two," He nodded to us, "Are my only children. I have no family besides my offspring. _You_ are the legacy which shall succeed me. In my absence you've grown and you're now just on the verge of adulthood, as well as inheriting a future I've yet to prepare you for."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, my brow rising. "Two seconds ago you were insisting I didn't have any manners and now you're talking about 'preparing us for 'adulthood'? What exactly is going on?"

Dib sharply inhaled beside me, making me turn to him. "You aren't . . ." He gulped starting over. "You aren't . . . _dying_, or anything, are you? I mean, you haven't, um, caught something that may or may not be killing you?

A chill ran through me. Not for my father's death, but as my mind made the same jump to the conclusion Dib had already come to. It was a rare moment that Dib figured something out before I did but now that I knew a part of me wanted to get up and rip my father's throat out. My eyes narrowed as they turned darkly to him. The accusation was right on my tongue when my father ruffled Dib's hair affectionately, shaking his head.

"There isn't anythin going on." My father insisted, with warmth and reassurance in his voice.

The words died with a swallow from me and I was silent once more.

"I'm just worried about you two," He admitted, placing a gloved finger underneath both of ours chins and tilting our faces upwards, so he could see us. "It isn't right for children to have to raise themselves. I was so busy preparing your futures to perfection that I forgot to actually _raise_ you as well. It was a silly mistake of me and for that I apologize."

I just knew Dib was staring at him like a child, maybe even wilting a little. But I just watched him, trying to figure out whether he was serious or not. Professor Membane acting like a real father. I couldn't picture it, even with the right motivation. There was just something . . . very wrong about this. But it seemed as though I had no real reason to object.

. . . For now.

It was when he turned his gaze to me that his sincerity changed, turning to his own form of confusion.

"Daughter," He said, removing his hand from Dib's face to cup both of my cheeks. I could feel Dib's head turning, to look at me with concern, as my father was now. "Are you ill?"

I shied away from the touch instinctively, glaring at him. "No. It was just cold outside. I'm fine."

"If that was the reason, you'd be icy to the touch, not warm. I can feel you through my gloves. You have a fever." He stated, walking around the table to hoist me up by my arms to my feet. He then gripped my shoulders firmly in his hands, "Go downstairs so I may examine you."

Dib was immediately on my side. Apparently he'd been preparing for this. A part of me wondered if I had, too.

"She's probably just sick, Dad." Dib insisted, slipping in between me and our father's grasp and leading me towards the stairs. "What she needs is rest, not prodding."

"As her father and a scientist, it's my job to ensure her health. This is just further proof of my failure. No, I will not have it. Gaz, come with me." My dad insisted, holding out his hand.

I shook my head. "No, Dib's right, Dad. I am actually pretty tired. I need to sleep it off. If I'm not better in the morning, we'll talk about-."

"Nonsense!" My father laughed, removing me from Dib's grasp and guiding me back towards the stairs to his lab. "Really now daughter, if I'm going to parent, I'm going to do it right. With science!"

Only my father would thing that science was the answer to parenting.**

I shot Dib a panicked look over my shoulder, not sure what to do. He stood there as my father rambled on enthusiastically about scienece and how my brains would pave my future faster than he ever could, droning on and on about my 'specialness' that I'd been blessed with and all the rest of that crap parents say to make their kids feel important. The whole while I was just thinking of how to get myself out of this. Hopefully he'd just do the usual doctor things; temperature, heartrate, etc. Than again this _was_ Professor Membrane. He _did_ tend to get a little carreid away with things.

Well shit.

"Sit down here, Gaz," My dad ordered, gesturing to a table. I nearly snorted.

Where had I seen _this_ before?

But I complied regardless, pushing myself up onto the table and gripping the edges, trying to look as uninterested and at ease as possible. This was difficult, considering the aches in my back had yet to stop and I actually wasn't comfortable in the least.

My father dug through a drawer a moment, returning with a device that looked suspiciously similar to a tazer. My brow rose as the screen turned on, but I didn't move. It seemed for the best as all he did was slowly run it (but a few inches from actually making contacting with my skin) up and down my body, centering around my middle.

"Mm," He frowned, eying the small machine before angling his head up at me. "Are you still getting pains from your scar and head, daughter?"

I shied away from the question, lying smoothly, shrugging indifferently. "I guess. It's nothing to be worried about though, Dad, I just get a little worked up when I run around for a while. And I've had a long night tonight, so-."

"Unacceptable!" My father shouted, interrupting me and making me flinch away from him.

I resisted a growl and a scowl, ignoring the urge to plug my ears in case he decided to shout again. Ignorant of my discomfort, he spun on his boot, rummaging through various drawers. I eyed him warily, trying to think of a way out of this just as he gave let out another noise of triumph, holding up a clear and slightly luminescent purple bottle. As he came closer, I saw it was only the reflection of the light on the odd metal that made it appear to have an effulgence about it.

"Ah, here we are," He unscrewed the black lid, shaking it out on his glove and holding what had fallen in for me to accept. "There you go, this should make you feel better!"

My brow rose as I eyed the plain, white pills curiously. Of course, I didn't outwardly show this. That would've been unlike me. "What are _those_?"

"These," He exclaimed, retracting his hand to pinch the pill in between his two hands. "Are of a similar origin to Vikadin. Except, as I do not trust those frivolous, addicting medications those crack-pots they call '_doctors_' administrate, I've made my own. All the relief without the threatening buzz!"

Suspiciously, I glanced between his beaming face and the pill in his hand. "If this is so fantastic, why isn't it on the market?"

My father scowled, his arm dropping, seeming considerably more disgruntled. "Because if my drug was on the market, the need for Vikadin would disappear and we wouldn't have addicts making the country money anymore. And it's not entirely unused; agents of the country who they can't risk becoming drug addicts take this one."

Ah. So now I knew where I got my pessimstic disgruntlement from. With a smirk, considerably in a better mood now, I held my hand out for the pill. My father placed it in my possession cheerfully, putting the bottle down on the table next to me and using the free hand to curl my fingers around his creation.

"There," He assured me. "It'll make you feel better."

I flinched nonetheless as he said that. Not because I was frightened, but because I had another unexpected flashback.

_"You're sure they took this one?"_

That was my voice.

I glanced up slowly at my father with disguised apprehension. His cheerful and mostly covered face just looked back at me.

I smiled at him, placing the pill in my mouth and swallowing harshly. "Thanks, Dad."

"Of course, daughter," He said, still affectionately, leading me back up the stairs with one hand on the small of my back. "As a father, it's my job to help you in whatever way I can. Especially when it involves **_science_**!"

I just offered him a smile again, turning my back to him when I reached my bedroom door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Gazlene!"

I shut the door as calmly as I could without moving. I waited a few seconds, until I finally heard the sound of his footsteps disappearing down the hallway and most likely back downstairs, back into his lab. As soon as I was absolutely possitive that he was gone (which took a wait time of ten minutes) I gently opened my mouth and put my hand to it, silently pushing out the pill that I'd hidden under my tongue.

True, upon examination, it was a tad soggy but that would dry off if I kept it in a dry place. I dug through my own drawers until I found a shockingly unused game case. Well, this would have to do. And camoflauge wouldn't hurt. I dropped the slightly damp pill inside the box, shutting it carefully and hiding it back where I had found it.

To be honest, I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea why I didn't just swallow the damned thing. But it was for this reason that I was sure that I shouldn't have. If I couldn't trust my own instincts, what could I trust?

I changed slowly, laying back down in my bed and inhaling deeply through my nose. I let my brain wander and try to process that past 24 hours, figure out how this had happened. Within a day, I'd managed to figure out the majority of my three months. And yet, my instincts told me I really only knew half the story. That there was still a huge puzzle piece missing to my tale. I knew I wasn't going to stop digging until I knew everything.

And in the morning, I was going to use that pill as my shovel.

* * *

*Who else wants to have there New Years celebrated like this? :D

**And my mom.

YES!

God DAMN, why did this chapter take so long to write? UGH!

Anyways, hope you liked this chapter.** FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE SEEN THE TRAILER (and even those of you who haven't)**, yes, I'm incorperating small things from the original plotline (and therefore said trailer) into the story. So rewatch the beginning and giggle if you haven't already seen what I've been doing.

Until the next time!


	19. Old Discoveries

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE; BUSY.

Okay, I'll admit it; it's really hard writing this when I'm so hard-core inspired for _The Game of Doom _(another Invader Zim AU story I'm currently writing, if anyone didn't know that). But, I suppose I'll finish this, even if it kills me. Besides, if worse comes to worse, I'll just delete the damned thing and have anyone curious about the ending PM me.

BUT, this is a last resort kind of thing. Unless I completely hit a dead end (which I probably won't; thank God for pre-planned outlines) I won't do this. And I'll let you all know well ahead of time, too.

**"All alone he turns to stone  
While holding his breath half to death  
Terrified of whats inside  
To, save his life  
He crawls like a worm  
Crawls like a worm from a bird!"  
-The Bird and the Worm by the Used; one of my favorite songs, highly recommended.**

So, enjoy.

Edit: So I'm fairly irritated right now. I just got a PM (that shall remain anonymous) about a story that just popped up and is copying this one, for the most part. That's really not cool, guys. :/ Now I don't really know if they did it on purpose, but waking up with Gaz in a hospital (albeit with _entire_ memory loss instead of partial) and Zim and Dib involved? Kind of sounds like a stretch but for a writer who works hard on her stories, for someone to copy these things I work hard on is just not cool. At all. :(

* * *

**Chapter 19  
"Old Discoveries"**

Upon realizing I was awake, I nearly groaned.

It was hard to wake up knowing that today would almost inevitably be filled with complicated thoughts far too out of reach for someone my age. Or, well, the average person my age. I was, after all, Gaz Membrane. I could handle the most diffcult of situations with ease. I could brush a catastrophic event off of my shoulder like it was nothing more than a pesky breeze ruffling my hair.

. . . It was ironic to think that despite these things being entirely true, a single night had thrown my world wildly out of proportion. I was well aware that the average girl- no, the average_ human being_ would be curled up into a ball right now, lamenting about the woes of their life. I didn't have that kind of luxury. It was move or be moved.

And I wasn't about to let anything influence me before I could make up my own mind.

So reluctantly, I rolled myself out of bed, cursing everything my eyes laid eyes on and wishing the majority of it would spontaneously combust or erupt in flames. At least that would make me feel a _little_ better. But alas, there was no sudden dematerializing or random production of fire anywhere to be found, so today, I was going to have to do without. For the moment, anyways. Especially considering last night, I couldn't really predict what today would bring. Hopefully some Advil actually, now that I was thinking about it. My head was killing me and the room seemed to be shifting at a slighlty unnerving angle that I couldn't see but was most definitely aware of.

It was actually producing the desired pills (from my cabinet in the bathroom) that I remembered another small, seemingly harmless pill. One I knew to be safely stashed in a box, in my desk. It was eying the pinkish round medicines in my hand that made the idea of swallowing a pill become wholly unappealing and so with an aggravated hiss, I shoved the now offending things back in the bottle they'd come from and decided I'd try eating something first. Glancing down at myself, getting dressed would probably be a good idea too, but that would have to wait until I got something in me to function.

I was honestly surprised it wasn't the middle of the day I was awakening to. Considering I'd gone to bed after 1 am, I'd figured the day would be well into itself before my body decided to begin functioning. But nope, it was only 9:30. Weird. Vaguely, I wondered if Dib would be up and then shortly after I realized I kind of hoped he wasn't. I half-frowned as I realized this, leaning against the counter with a piece of toast in my hand as I nibbled thoughtfully at the edges. Mentally, I began preparing myself for what today may or may not bring.

Definitely Dib pestering me. Though he hadn't 'graced' the kitchen with his presence, I doubted he'd leave me alone today. Than again (contrary to popular belief), he _was_ a teenage boy; who knew when he'd be getting up? And if he did, it posed the question of whether or not he'd actually have the energy to really check on me before going and doing . . . whatever it was my brother planned on doing to help me. I resigned this hopeful thought with a sigh. Even if Dib was on his death bed, I knew he'd still make it his priority to come check on his 'baby sister'. I rolled my eyes at the thought and continued my mental check-list.

Zim was also a very real possible presence today. It was debatable whether his appearance depended on his computers or not, but regardless, there was a chance we'd be getting a call from him ordering me over to his house. I scowled at the idea of being snapped at or ordered around, ripping a chunk of toast off this time and chewing harshly in what very likely wasn't the most lady-like of fashions. The thought of Zim still made my ears burn for reasons that frustrated and confused me to no end.

To say I liked Zim would be . . . a statement I wasn't entirely sure about. In all honesty, the _real_ me, or well, the person I was now, had only known Zim for a fairly short amount of time. Last night, actually. It was hard to believe everything that had happened had really only taken a timespan of around 8 hours, but there it was. Suddenly I had allies where it had seemed impossible but a week ago and what may or may not have been a friendship with my brother's annoying, arrogant, increasingly psychotic worst enemy.

_"I forgot how much of a pest you can be."_

_"You'll find that Zim thinks very highly of you, little Gaz."_

A low growl errupted from my throat, a low, feral noise that probably would've disturbed small children and the majority of miniature house-pets. Swiping my wrist across my mouth as I finished the last of what I was going to call my breakfast, I turned my attention towards the window, scowling considerably at the glowing area of gray sky, knowing full well behind all these clouds, a sun was burning, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" I muttered, referring to the green nuisance that was plagueing my thoughts. For a moment, I swore I could've heard his mocking laughter in my ears before I hissed again, grabbing my cup of untouched juice and heading back upstairs to become decent. Normally, on a Saturday, I would be lounging around in my room and avoiding all signs of civilization whatsoever but considering I didn't really have the luxury of privacy anymore, I wasn't about to take any chances of someone storming into my room to find me . . . less than decent, I guess you could say. Regardless of their identity, it just wasn't an appealing thought.

After dressing and fixing my hair in a decent-enough manner, as well as taking care of my hygiene needs, I paused, thinking over what I had planned on doing. It was around this time I realized I actually didn't really have a plan.

Well, at least my headache was gone and I was capable of thinking of one now.

First thing was first, I had to look at that hopefully no-longer-soggy pill I'd hidden in the recesses of my desk. And so I carefully picked through the contents, retrieving the black box and sliding it open, surprisingly relieved to find it still there, with a bit of powder surrounding it. I wasn't sure why I'd been anxious to see it was still here; honestly, where would it have gone? But paranoia was paranoia, and considering recent events, it seemed appropriate to have a bit of caution surrounding my person. A kind of precaution I guess you could say.

I gently closed the box over again, a thought coming to mind. Placing it under my pillow, for whatever reason, I hid the box and proceeded to my bathroom, digging through it until I found the throw-away, one-use kind of gloves I always had handy, just in case. You never knew when you'd need a pair of disposable gloves. Obviously, now would be one of those times.

Slipping on one of said gloves and leaving the box on the counter, just in case, I sat back down on my bed, retrieving the box from its second hiding place. Opening the pouch once again, I gently padded one of my gloved fingers on some of the dust, holding it up for further examination closer to my eyes. I scrutinized the powder a moment, drawing the shades a little with my free hand and holding it up to the light. Curiously, a slight crystalline sparkle came from a few flecks, kind of like glitter but thicker and not quite as annoying. I brought the powder to my nose, smelling it gently. It smelled kind of sweet, flooding my senses, despite the miniscule amount. I resisted the urge to gag.

"Weird," I commented, eying the powdery substance suspiciously.

To say I didn't want to taste it would be a lie. I was sincerely curious and, to be honest, my back was starting to hurt again. It irritated me that so soon after waking up, I was already in pain, but I suppose it could've been worse. It wasn't piercing me to the core, at the very least, just kind of uncomfortable. And so despite last night's adamant refusal to take the pill my father had administrated to me, I suddenly found a rubber-covered finger in my mouth, sucking on the powder gently.

And it was at this moment something crashed down, just below my window on the second story.*

Immediately the glove was out of my mouth, the black box slammed shut and hidden under my pillow in one swift movement. The next moment we were at my window, opening it and leaning over the open window, looking down below.

Of course, what else would be there besides my little green affliction himself?

Immediately I relaxed, the immediate fear (something I wasn't used to yet) gone as I glared down at him, letting my irritation shine through.

"Any particular reason why you're outside my window on the floor, Zim?" I questioned him, a single brow rising, no amusement littering in my voice. Which was actually quite impressive, because seeing him sprawled awkwardly on my lawn in pain was really quite a sight to see.

He groaned, apparently not yet ready to sit up, since he continued laying on the grass, seemingly without any intention of moving anytime soon. He'd apparently missed my sarcasm, as his reply was rather bitter, mocking my intelligence with each word.

"Because I fell, obviously!"

I sighed shaking my head; if I'd seen anything in him previously, I sincerely hoped I'd figure it out soon because Zim really had yet to impress me much. "Did it ever occur to you to use the door instead of the tree?"

This was really the only theory I could come up with as to why he was where he was. Unless he was on the roof. Which was a possibility, but one I'd certainly like to hear the story behind if it was true. Zim seemed about to answer, lifting an arm in the air dramatically, before he thought better of it and closed his mouth, choosing to let out another groan instead. This time, I really couldn't help the snicker. But it was quiet, so it hardly mattered.

At this moment, a pajama-clad, half-awake Dib stormed into my room, making me spin around for the second time this morning. Seeing it was only my brother I once again relaxed, silently questioning why none of the males in my life could seem to enter a room without scaring the hell out of somebody or making a scene.

"It's just Zim," I said, before he could form a question. I eyed his boyish form with distaste; really, no matter how weird my brother was, it was clear by how sloppy he looked that he was still a teenage boy. "Go back to bed. Or at least take a shower, you _wreak_!"

Dib scowled at me. "I do not."

"Do too."

"Leave me alone, I just woke up." He retorted with finality, a silent gesture to not continue on the subject.

Reluctantly, I complied.

Mainly because I couldn't form a witty sentence with his nasty boy-aroma filling the air.

Zim never smelled like this. Then again Zim was an alien, not a teenage boy. Somewhere in my head, I registered I shouldn't know what Zim smelled like (which was an aroma so sweet it would've been sickly had it not been stifled by the ever-present scent of metal, or whatever he'd last spilled on him/blown up) but it hardly mattered as Dib's overpowering odor of night-sweat and whatever else was festering in his room came ever-closer to me and my bed.

"Ew, go away!" I shouted, glad my window was open as I cupped my hand over my nose and recoiled away from him. "Seriously Dib, I'm not kidding. What'd you do, roll in rotting corpses all morning?"

"I forgot to wash the beach-smell off of me last night Gaz, geez!" He snapped back, kneeling on my bed (to my ever-growing disapproval; now I'd have to wash the sheets to get his scent off) to peer outside.

Apparently, _he_ didn't think much of laughing at Zim.

"When I get up there Dib-monkey, I'm going to rip that big head of yours from your primitive shoulder-sockets and give it to Gir as a play-thing!" Zim shouted up at us, fairly irritated but still sounding kind of exhausted.

I didn't blame him, in all honestly. Falling on his PAK had probably knocked the wind out of him, or damaged something in it. Some instinct let me know that Zim's PAK getting injured was a bad thing. Potentially life-threatening. But considering how lazy and unconcerned he seemed, I doubted Zim was currently in any real danger. I had a feeling everyone present (save me) was more worried about my well-being than the alien's, lying on the grass behind my house.

"How can my shoulders be primitive?" Dib asked, turning to me with confusion in his gaze.

I shrugged. "Shoulder-_sockets_ Dib. And how should I know?"

"Oh, right . . . Well, you'll have to get up to do that, Zim!" Dib shot back, smugly. Then his eyes widened, face contorting in fury a moment later. "AND MY HEADS NOT BIG- ow!"

Immediately I flinched at the scream, slapping my brother in the back of the head for his troubles. "Can we continue this conversation in the same room, please? You know, so my ears _aren't_ bleeding at the sound of you two screaming in my ear?"

"I'll be up in a minute!" Zim called from below, raising his arm once again before letting it flop back down below.

I turned to Dib, rolling my eyes. "He'll be a while. In the mean time, why don't you go clean the beach-filth from your disgusting body? Maybe even try to get the scent of fish-pee out while you're at it."

Dib scowled at me. "You're not gonna let this go till I bathe, are you?"

"Mm, no, probably not."

He sighed. "Alright, I'm going."

"Evidently, not soon enough. Now get out," I insisted, shoving him off my bed and out of my room. "I've got to get my comforter in the washer before your scent gets imbedded into it."

"_**Will you shut up about my smell**_? I'm going!"

"Like I said Dib," I replied as he turned to face me, looking considerably irritated. Contrary to popular belief, my brother was anything but a morning person. "Not fast enough."

And for his outburst, I rewarded him with a slam of the door to his face. Smirking at the shout of pain and the thought of possibly causing another bruised nose, satisfied, I turned my attention to my bed sheets, making short work of them and dumping them in the washing machine downstairs.

When this task was done and with the lack of anything better to do, the plan I'd been formulating in my head finally clicked. I paused where I was, turning to listen to the noise in the house. The only noise was the sound of water running as well as squeaking as Dib adjusted the shower knobs.

Within a heartbeat, I was running upstairs.

* * *

I'd made . . . _some_ progress, at the very least.

_If you counted sitting up progress._

I growled at my own mind's traitorous thought, feeling all my aches disappear as my PAK rejuvenated me. I glanced at my back to check for dents; not a one. Though it was unlikely something as strong as Irken metal would've dented from a simple fall off a large Earth-plant but you never knew. These days, anything went. Life had become increasingly unpredictable as of late, but that was perfectly fine with me. After all, the Almighty Zim could handle any-!

"Plan on getting up anytime soon, or were you practicing your camoflauge?"**

I jumped, turning my head in surprise to see Gaz, looking down at me with a raised brow, like she was genuinely asking me a question and making fun of me at the same time. With her, you could never really tell. Regardless, I stared at her, dumbly, unable to help myself. Her brows shifted downwards then, showing she was becoming increasingly irritated now. Another thing about Gaz was she no patience. For anybody. And she was prone to shifting moods without a single seconds notice.

Surprisingly, this was one of the things I found admirable about her.

Still watching her with wide eyes, I managed to get out, "I was going to get up . . . When I'm good and ready!"

There, that was a bit more like me.

She seemed unimpressed at my outburst, arms crossed. I became aware of her dress blowing in the breeze a little, ruffling around her thighs, brushing with her metallic tights. Her signature outfit. I wondered what the occasion was.

Gaz sighed. "Well if you're just going to sit there like an idiot, the least you can do is listen."

She glance towards the house apprehensively and from beneath my wig, I turned my antennae towards where her gaze was. The sound of a shower running caught my attention and I resisted the urge to shiver. It seemed the Dib-stink had taken his sister's advice after all. Or maybe it was more of an order then a recommendation but regardless, it seemed Gaz had wanted her brother out of the way for a reason. So maybe she _had_ been overexaggerating his smell and it really wasn't just the Dib-stink whining like he always does.

Regardless, she scowled, kneeling besides me, an action surprisingly in itself. Gaz was never one to get on someone else's level, especially my own. Not unless they were higher up then her and normally she kicked them off the pedestal to make room for herself (that wasn't just a metaphor; I'd seen her push various people off of the stairs while walking towards class at school). To have her kneel, an action so simple to most, was actually quite a big deal for her.

"Here," She said, holding out a black box for me. When I didn't move, she hissed out an order. "Take it!"

At once, automatically, my hand snatched the thing from hers in a movement quick enough to apparently startle her. Her hand recoiled and she stared at me a second before sliding it onto the grass, trying not to look surprised. From my peripheral vision I saw her relax, becoming impassive once again soon enough.

Being nosy and impatient myself, without asking, I slid open the hidden compartment in the box. Upon seeing nothing more than a power-surrounded pill, my eyes narrowed in distaste. Being Gaz, a naturally reclusive and mysterious being, I couldn't have helped but to assume the contents would be a bit more . . . interesting, I guess.

"What do you want Zim to do with _this_?" I hissed, showing my distaste through my words.

Gaz glared at me for the retort. "I want you to find out what's in it."

"Eh?" I demanded, becoming suspicious. "Why? Where did you get this?"

She pushed the box I'd held out to her back at me, "Careful with that, idiot! You might drop it and I don't want it getting contaminated because _you_ were being reckless."

"_Me_?" I replied, completely thrown off guard. "When has Zim ever been reckless? I am perfe-!"

"Finish that shout and I'll rip your stringy little tongue out of your mouth," She growled, apparently having lost any form of patience she may have formerly had with me.

Liking my tongue right where it was, I shut my mouth and stared at her, obediently (but never fearfully . . . no one scares Zim!) waiting for her to speak. She sighed aggravatedly, pinching the bridge of her nose a moment before continuing.

"Good, now, first off, it's none of your business where I got that. All you need to do is test it, see what it does, tell me what you find and then forget all about it. _Okay_?" She stressed the word, to see if I understood. I nodded. "Oh yeah, and don't tell Dib."

"I assumed that was part of the terms when you became anxious about your brother's whereabouts." I replied plainly, closing the box and slipping it into my PAK. "I suppose I'll do what you ask, Gaz-human . . . but only because I'm curious, not because you are intimidating!"

She smirked, "Right."

I grumbled under my breath, rolling myself onto my feet. "I forgot how infuriating you can be."

A strange look came to her face then and I paused, looking down at her as she remained crouching, lost in what may have been a captivating thought. I became wary only when she did not move for several minutes.

"Eh, Gaz?" I questioned, eying her with slight concern tickling my squeedily-spooch. "Are you feeling alright?"

Her head snapped up and she was on her feet a second later, suddenly concerned with getting imaginary dust-particles off of her skirt.

"Yeah, I'm fine," She replied, her voice level. "So when do you think you can get the results back to me?"

I didn't miss the fact she'd changed the subject. Regardless, I let it go (but saved it for later; after all, I _was_ curious to know what she'd been thinking) and answered. "A day, two tops. Depends on how this thing reacts to Irken technology."

She nodded and said nothing.

Again, my eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You sure you're alright, Gaz-human?"

"Fine!" She snapped, out of nowhere, storming past me. "Just . . . get in the house!"

I stared after her as she slammed the screen door, leaving the real one open. I scowled after a few moments, realizing she might've locked it by accident and I might have to pick the lock. Well, it certainly wouldn't be difficult, just annoying. After all, it wouldn't be the first time (and certainly not the last) I broke into the Membrane household.

"Women," I muttered, following after to go break into their house, knowing full well Gaz would not lift a finger from where she currently was to help me.

* * *

*Alright, this might've gone over some of your heads (probably all of them). I want you all to imagine what Zim sees when he climbs the tree and goes up to Gaz's window, with every intention of scaring the hell out of her:

Gaz. Sitting on her bed. Sucking delicately on her finger.

If that still went over your head, review, so I can laugh at you.

**Get it? Cause he's green and the grass is . . .? Nevermind.

GAH. Sorry about the late update, I actually intended for a lot more to be in here, but I forgot that my update was coming up and only had about half this written. So I wrote it all just now and yeah. They'll probably be more errors because I'm just going to upload it without looking it over, seeing as you've waited long enough. I'll probably get around to checking it later, if there are enough gramatical errors but we'll see.

I think I did better this chapter? I don't know, you'll have to tell me, but I felt like I was on a roll for most of that.

Till the next chapter!


	20. Theory

I'M BAAAAAACK.

Did ya'll bitches miss me? :D

Alright, gang - let's see how I did, alright? No holding back on those reviews now!

**"She's got her finger on the trigger like  
Bang, bang  
And they're right there in the middle like  
Bang, bang"  
-Bang, Bang by 3OH!3**

Same song, yes, if anyone noticed. And I decided not to rewrite the VEEEEERY beginning, because I said so. And I like the banter.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 20  
****"Theory"**

The only time Dib's presence would be welcome and he wasn't here.

It was boring and mildly awkward sitting on my couch with Zim and pretending to watch whatever channel was on. Honestly, I couldn't say, because every time I tried to get into the show Zim would twitch or just do _something_ that would make me aware of him again I would have to start all over. The process of ignoring Zim was now not as easy as it had previously been. Which was not my fault at all, of course. It was his, obviously.

"So . . . What is this show about?" Zim asked, despite the fact he'd seemed captivated by the screen. Or, at least, he'd been looking at it every time I caught a glimpse of him through my peripheral vision.

I resisted a sigh, my hand cupping the side of my cheek. My tone was unbelievably disinterested and it wasn't just because of my acting skills. "I honestly have no idea."

He peered at me with surprise. "Haven't you been watching it?"

"Haven't_ you_?" I countered, avoiding the question.

"Your Earth-culture is unfamiliar to me. All I understand is that this Earth-female has been keeping secrets from her friends and she's secretly been in . . . some sort of hero-organization of some sort. Although I don't understand why they disapprove of the man they're fighting against. He seems reasonable enough."

I couldn't resist the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips and turned away from him, in an attempt to hide it. "Please keep in mind you've tried to take over my world for the majority of my life. You'd_ easily_ identify with the villain."

Zim seemed to take this into consideration as he continued to watch, intrigued, if not entirely fascinated with the show now. I couldn't help but watch him, eyes narrowed as I scrutinized him subtly.

If my suspicions (and deepest fears) were correct and I did have deeply rooted, forgotten feelings for Zim, I had yet to understand why. From an objective point of view, Zim was ignorant. A mad genius, capable of doing _terrible_ (admirable) things, true, but someone who didn't understand anything. He knew it, observed it, but couldn't comprehend it. The only reason I could find of why Dib had chosen Zim to help me was because he was every bit as stupid.

Yet from where I was sitting, he was hiding something.

And I had a bad feeling that my curiosity was going to get the better of me and demand I find out what exactly that was.

I sighed after another ten minutes of pretending to watch whatever was on the television, attracting Zim's attention.

"Something wrong, Gaz-human?" Then his eyes narrowed, not angry, but almost like a doctor listening intently to his patient as they reported system's of an oncoming heart-attack. "Your back isn't hurting again, is it?"

As a matter of fact, it was, but it was a pain I was accustomed to now. Definitely not better, but nothing particularly uncomfortable. I told him as much. He shot me a disapproving glare for my nonchalant attitude regardless. He seemed about to make some smart remark when his wrist buzzed and he stopped, lifting it to his face and hitting a button. A square hologram came up and on it was Gir's beaming face.

"Hiya!" He shouted, waving vigorously at Zim. My brow rose. I hadn't really noticed the lack of Gir I'd been seeing lately, even when we were at Zim's house. So it was kind of surprising (and then again, thinking about it, not really too surprising) to see him randomly popping up. On Zim's arm, no less.

Zim's eyes immediately narrowed. "What did you do _now_, Gir?"

The little robot beamed, eyes scrunching up in his joy. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and I could've sworn I heard him fart. By the look on Zim's face, I wasn't the only one. Zim's gaze turned threatening, his lips curling back to reveal his teeth clenched in frustration.

"Gir." He said, warningly. "What. Happened?"

"Uh . . ." Gir looked ponderous, eyes wide as he stared. And then he jumped, having apparently remembered. "Oh yeah! Computers making all these funny noises 'n stuff. Told me to tell you tah get home and- PIGGY!"

Gir suddenly shot out of the frame, barreling into something that made the suspicious noise of some type of wild bird. Why he called it a pig, I had no idea. Whether or not a pig could make that noise was also questionable, but than again, this _was_ Gir. Some instinct allowed me to know that Gir would never and could never make anything seem sensible or logical. That he was just a being that existed simply for the sake of defying reason and physics, for that matter. So if he made a pig squawk, that would hardly surprise anyone.

Zim sighed, cutting the transmission and standing up. "It seems I must be going. Whatever Gir or the house need, it's never safe to leave them alone for more then ten minutes after I get a call from one of them."

I nodded my acknowledgment. "I can imagine."

He paused, looking at me. Studying me was more like it actually. It was borderline uncomfortable but I didn't let it show.

"Are you going to be alright by yourself?" He asked, seriously.

I rolled my eyes. "Dib's home, Zim. Even if anything _did_ happen- which it won't- I'm perfectly alright. I don't need you to babysit me every second of the day."

"You're my personal patient." Zim insisted, plainly. "It's actually my _job_ to babysit you."

Childishly, I stuck my tongue out at him.

He smirked. "See my point?"

I placed my arms on the back of my couch, crossing my legs casually. "Nope. I'm not doing anything particularly dangerous. TV is hardly a daring activity."

"Trouble finds you easily," Zim argued plainly, making a wave of his hand that motioned to the end of the conversation. "Regardless, I suppose I really don't have a choice but to leave you in the care of your brother. Call me if anything happens or progresses."

"Maybe," I called after him, earning me another dirty look before he left, saying nothing else. I couldn't help but laugh, which I'm positive he heard, even if the door was closed.

It was soon really quiet without him, I realized. Sort of boring. It turned out that a part of the reason it might've been hard to ignore Zim and watch the television was partly because of how stupid the show was. An overly dramatic sitcom. It was an easy plot to pick up, even I had been ignoring the entire first half of it. I immediately began channel surfing, for lack of anything better to do. Upstairs I heard the water still running.

So it was just going to be another boring Saturday, I guess.

I sighed.

Life sucked sometimes.

* * *

It was a quick fly home, in my Voot Cruiser. It was a little more reckless than I was used to being, but in the situation where I'd gotten a call, the faster I returned home, the better it would be for everyone.

Especially me, when I didn't have to deal with the mess the two of them would end up making.

When my base came into view, still in tact and not attracting any attention, my relief was short-lived. There was always the possibility that the damage was simply contained on this inside, in which case it would still mean something _I_ had to deal with. As my roof opened up and I settled into my house, I mentally prepared for the worst, getting boredly out of my Voot Runner to inspect.

"Nothing_ seems_ out of place up here," I muttered. Then in a louder voice I demanded. "Computer, state the conditions of the base!"

There was a brief beeping noise before it responded, in as dull a tone as ever. "_**Master, the data check you're running downstairs has come to a standstill and needs your immediate attention.**_"

"Eh?" I demanded, stomping towards the elevator. "What's wrong with it? Are the systems fried or something?"

"_**The systems need to be updated effective immediately, before it shorts out. I took the liberty to freeze your research in the effect that something went wrong, so that you wouldn't have to start over again.**_"

I groaned, slapping a hand to my forehead. This was far worse than coming home to find Gir had trashed the place with his bubble-gum/cheese potato cupcakes again.

"Bring me to the generator, please, Computer." I commanded, tiredly. "I'll need to do an evaluation to see just how badly the systems are fried before I let my research continue. Continue to keep it suspended until I finish with the repairs."

"_**Understood, Master.**_"

The doors to the elevator slid open, revealing the core of my labs. Immediately I was aware of just how bad the damage was, scowling at the generator beam as it sparked, periodically.

"I'm not going to need to build or replace another brain again, am I?" I questioned, heading towards the center of the platform. The thought of doing _that_ maintenance process all over again made me shiver at the memory of Gir getting stuck in the house. In the event I did need to undergo such maintenance, Gir would not be allowed anywhere _near_ the generator.

"Unnecessary. You simply need to clean out the generator and download a new system running program into my data base. After this, you can continue your studies and the estimated time for this and future functioning will be cut in half."

"Really?" I asked, pausing from removing my disguise, so I could begin work. "Why wasn't I notified of this earlier?"

"_**. . . I did, sir. You told me you didn't have time to listen to my ramblings.**_"

My antennae perked before lowering awkwardly. "Oh, eh, right. Ahem, Computer, contact the Membrane household at once! I must inform him that I will be busy for . . . how long do you estimate is this going to take?"

"_**Probably the majority of the day and possibly tomorrow morning, taking into account breaks and resting time.**_"

I sighed, aggravated. But this was necessary, I reminded myself. "Very well. Please contact the Membrane Household and put it on speaker so I may speak while I work."

"_**Yes, ****master**_."

Immediately the base started ringing. One of the house's appendages reached down and handed me one of the tools I needed. I took it in my grip, beginning the dismantlement of the generator. The phone continued ringing for a few moments longer and was on the verge or irritating when finally it was answered.

"_What?_" Gaz's voice rang out in my dome.

I snorted, a smirk on my face as I began loosening the bolts. "That's certainly a kind greeting. No wonder you're so popular."

I could just _hear_ the brow rising on her face in questioning, imagined her leaning against the kitchen wall casually. It was almost frightening how easy it was for me to imaging her movements now. Like I'd known her for years instead of just a few months. Which, technically, I had, but I'd only _truly_ known her for a short amount of time.

"_Just left and you're already calling me?_" Her voice replied, mockingly. "_What's the matter, Zim? Having separation issues?_"

"The only issues I'm currently having are with my base, little Gaz." I retorted, ignoring her vindictive attitude. "All of my systems are currently in suspension mode."

Her tone switched, rather hilariously, into a tone striking similar to mine when I dealt with situations of these sorts; tired, with just a hint of irritation.

"_What'd Gir do_?"

I laughed. "Surprisingly, he had nothing to do with my recent system failure. The strain of all the tests and research I've been doing for the past three months just took its toll on my technology and now I need to spend the day fixing and cleaning everything."

"_So nerdy tech-stuff,_" She translated, plainly. "_Sounds like a blast. You going to need any help?_"

Well this was surprising. I paused, my antennae rising. "Are you offering?"

"_Depends on how bored I get and how much work I'll actually be doing._" She replied, plainly. And again, I could just imagine her curling the telephone wire around her finger, smirking as she taunted me. She had a habit of doing that, I'd noticed, when on the phone. "_Also, what I might get out of it._"

"As kind and selfless as your offer is, I'll have to decline." I said, rolling my eyes. I should've seen that one coming. Gaz rarely, if ever, did something simply for the sake of being helpful. "All of this work is coding in the Irken language and the dismantling of temperamental power-sources. I doubt you would be able to help with anything."

"_I have a feeling you're making this all sound much more complicated than it really is._" She insisted, with a smirk in her tone.

"Probably, but that's my secret, isn't it, little Gaz?" I mocked, with a smirk of my own.

Immediately her tone changed to irritation, as I'd intended. "_Call me that again, Zim. Watch what will happen to you._"

I laughed, slowly prying open the generator hatch. My amused chuckle quickly morphed into a cough at the disgusting stench. "Ugh, yes, well, I should get back to work. This thing isn't going to clean itself. Inform your brother he's on baby-sitting duty. If anything happens, he's to contact me at once."

"_Yeah, yeah, he knows the paranoia-filled rules_," she replied, boredly. "_Shall I relay anything else, 'master', or are we done for the day?_"

"We are done." But I was smiling. "But continue calling me master. I like it."

She hung up on me. At the dial tone I threw back my head and laughed and the computer cut the transmission. Even as I worked, I continued snickering to myself, reveling in the thought I had irritated Gaz.

"_**You seem to enjoy speaking with the human girl.**_"

Immediately I stopped laughing, a brow rising as I worked. Whenever the computer made these types of assertions in a topic, something bad was about to happen. Whether it be for the better or worse for me in the end, I wasn't sure, but it always made me nervous. And I especially did not like the way that it had said 'human-girl', as if Gaz was not good enough to be spoken by name. Or it had forgotten. Either way-.

"Her name is Gaz," I informed it, bluntly. "And it's my job to be taking care of her. It's better if we remain on friendly turns until this is over."

"**And what then?**"

"Eh?" I replied, carefully pouring the generator salve into the mix of waste. It was to sit for about twenty minutes, during which time I would begin working on the lab.

"**When this is over and your services are no longer needed, do you still intend on maintaining your relationship with Gaz?**"

My eyes narrowed as I stood up, tossing the bucket into one of the waiting hands off the house. "She's my charge, computer."

"**She's a threat to the mission. If you're even still interested in it.**"

"The mission is none of your concern, Computer." I snapped, harshly. "Leave the thinking to me. All _you_ have to worry about is following orders. And I require silence now. So shush!"

"_**. . . Yes, master. As you wish.**_"

I sighed, shutting the generator and heading back down to the labs. The coding would take some time. Admittedly, probably not as much as the computer was estimating since with the generators frozen, it, too, was not functioning properly. But it was already more than long enough to be inconvenient. Frustrated, I stomped into his labs, eying all of my screens that were frozen in time.

_This might take a while . . ._

I sighed, plopping down in the control chair and letting my fingers instinctively glide across the keyboard to begin the updates. With the generator freshly cleaned, the back-up/emergency system (the only thing currently available) was more than happy to comply. As this was all second nature to me, my mind was free to wonder to subjects I'd been thus avoiding. Particularly, my thoughts were centered around what the computer had been concerned about. _Who_ it had been concerned about.

It made me glad that it did not know everything that had transpired between me and the troublesome female.

I flinched, hands stilling a moment before rushing back to continue their task. That Irk-damned night I'd spent with the Gaz-human. So frustrating and yet at the same time, filled with an overall freeing. No, I had not 'slept with' her, as one automatically assumes when nocturnal events are discussed. Especially when spent with member of the opposite gender. Attractive or otherwise.

Now, I cannot find myself to regret what I did. The fact she refused to answer me at the time was incredibly irritating, but afterwords, after it had been thrown out in the open, it was her problem to brood over, not mine. Really, walking away like she did, it prevented a much more complicated situation for her to wake up in. Briefly, I imagined how _I_ might've felt dealing with that. I'd have dug myself into an endless hole of frustration and anxiety. Not to say I wasn't there now, but it could've been worse. Knowing that despite her wish to know everything that had happened, I was still protecting her with my secret. With her secret that would make her porcelain face flush and monotonous voice raise with embarrassed anger. A single action on my part that had sent the two of us into a raging shouting match, both of our pride turning out to be too much for her.

As smart as I fancy myself, that might've been the dumbest thing I ever did.

I was brooding. Which I was well aware was not good for a mind like mine, but I couldn't help it. The near-sting I felt when she'd woken up and Dib had told me she remembered nothing. Coming to terms with the fact I would never have her opinion and yet thankful that we could avoid the drama and very literally pretend like it had never happened. At least, on my part, because for her, truly _nothing_ had happened. Nothing she was aware of, at least. Either way, her head was free of that, and I was more than happy to sacrifice my own peace of mind for hers.

Gaz was . . . unique, to say the least, and nearly impossible to predict, let alone understand. I smirked, remembering what she probably had no idea about. That first day of school that started out as just another day of babysitting, transforming into a rather amusing and memorable event. Showing up at their house early, Dib and I now adjusted to one another, and walking into her room with the intention of fetching her to leave, only to find her examining herself in the mirror. Her eyes had been narrowed with bitter resentment.

_"The outfit that bad?"_ I'd asked, amused.

She'd made a few comments. Both of us had. And when I'd finally demanded to know why it mattered how she looked, she'd answered with a resentful, _"Because!" _and that had been the end of it. For a moment. Until I'd off-handedly replied she looked like a fine specimen of worm-baby and I didn't understand why she seemed so concerned. This had started it. I didn't know at the time, but remembering the look she'd shot me in the mirror, I know now that's where it started. At the time, it had just been an attempt to get her away from the mirror so we wouldn't be late and I wouldn't have to hear the Dib-monkey bitching about our tardiness. Now, I wondered if she'd shot me that look of utter suspicion and confusion because she thought it a compliment.

Which, I guess, technically it _was_. But I was simply reminding her of her above-average appearance that she held at all times. To me, a compliment was a lie. Or some form of praise that someone had done something right. Some skill they had no one else had. As irritating as it was, Gaz was beautiful, which wasn't something that she could control. It wasn't a skill. But it certainly was something that no one else had. I sighed. It was always difficult to classify Gaz, even one _aspect_ of her. She always seemed to fall in the gray lines, the border between that everyone had crossed or was too scared to get near, very much like the way Gaz was approached or dealt with. She was either entirely ignored or she made others too nervous to approach. Which was fascinating to me.

I could feel time passing as I worked and thought. I wondered what Gaz was doing without me there to watch her. I even began worrying whether or not the Dib-stink was _properly_ watching her. I nearly laughed at my paranoia, glancing at the clock to find that it was indeed well into the evening now. Funny how time passed when you were working and being obsessive at the same time. It was about 5:30 and I wondered if I should call, just to check in on them, see if everything was still alright. I felt like a father, doting on his children. Except I had an extreme case of favoritism, and I was also their doctor.

As it turned out, I caved.

"Computer," I ordered tiredly. "Call the Membrane household."

"**Again?**"

I growled.

* * *

It had been hours.

Dib was upstairs, doing whatever. I was contently playing my game, but quickly growing frustrated with it, as the boss was a bitch that didn't know when it was time to get on its knees and die.(1) It was incredibly irritating and I was on the verge of breaking my game when mercifully, the phone rang. I sighed in relief, breaking from the screen as I died, glad for the temporary relievement from this damn game. I grabbed the cordless phone and plopped down on the couch, holding it up to my ear as I crossed my legs and put my feet up on the couch next to me.

"Hello?" I asked, boredly.

There was a long pause. My brow rose, and I was about to hang up when someone said. ". . . _Hello again._"

I smirked, the most natural expression that seemed to come to my face when talking to him. "Second call today; someones borderline obsessive. Something wrong?"

"_How are you feeling?_" He asked in reply, ignoring my question.

I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the arm of the couch, feeling like I should be doing something else. However, at the extreme lack of things to do, I decided I'd humor this for the moment. "I _told_ you Zim; If anything changed, you'd be the first to know. My backs just sore, as always, and my head is hurting from playing video games for four hours straight. Now what's wrong?"

Another pause.

"_I'm **bored**_." He finally whined, his voice slipping into a childish tone.

And immediately I knew that this was the true reason he had called me. I laughed, snickering into the phone and gaining a new interest in the conversation. "That sounds like a personal problem.

His tone quickly became bitter, irritated. "_That's not funny._"

I smirked coyly. "And what, might I ask, did you think you'd accomplish by calling _me_?"

"_I don't know_," he replied, and I could just imagine him shrugging. Vaguely, in the background I could hear him typing, and I didn't find it particularly surprising that he was bored. He _had_ mentioned coding, after all. That didn't exactly sound like the most thrilling thing to do in the world. "_What are you doing?_"

"Right now, I'm taking a break from games." I replied, looking at my ceiling. "Like I said, I'm getting a headache from it."

"_Oh?_" He sounded interested. Or at least, like he wanted to be. "_And are you doing well?_"

My expression darkened. "As it turns out, pigs are harder to kill then you would think. Especially the supernatural ones."

"_Hmm . . . interesting. I've never tried any experiments with the pork-inhabitants of Earth._"

My brow rose with intrigue and I sat up. I suppressed laughter. "Are you saying you're going to go out and hunt down pigs now?"

"_When I've got some free time, after my computers are fixed, yes._" He insisted, as if defensive.

I scoffed in disbelief. "For what purpose?"

"_Experimentation, **obviously**!_" He snapped, and I could just imagine his eye roll at my 'obliviousness'. "_I'm curious to see if your real Earth pigs prove as difficult to slaughter as your game-version._"

"I honestly doubt killing pigs is going to prove anything besides the fact that you have far too much time and weaponry on your hands." I informed him dully, wondering why this was so easy.

While talking to Zim, while normally filled with yelling and cynical or cutting remarks, conversation flowed rather easily. It was like talking to Dib, except, I'd grown up with Dib. I'd barely known Zim (from what I could remember) for about a month. And I hated talking to strangers. Mainly because the majority of the male's leered at me (as proven by my father's Xmas party) and the girls were filled with nothing but harsh remarks about people they weren't friends with (and occasionally, people they _were_ friends with) or the annoying males of my species. Or cute things. Either way, even when I found someone who_ wasn't_ like that, I just found _some_ reason to resent them or they were too afraid to come near me. This never bothered me. In fact, I'm perfectly alright with that. However despite the many reason Zim irritated me, I couldn't really bring myself to resent him. Pity him for the abnormal amount of stupidity he held, maybe, but I was surprised to find that I couldn't hate him. Things _about_ him, sometimes, but not his very being like I sometimes hated Dib's. And it was this this realization that made me slightly unnerved.

Zim snorted, interrupting my temporary thought-process. "_You know nothing of experimentation. You've never done it before in your short dirt-child existence._"

"Clearly you've never met my Security System," I replied, smirking at the idea of such an event. Dib had faced the wrath of my carnivorous toys on several memorable occasions. The idea of Zim being in his place was particularly amusing to me.

He caught that in my tone of voice and I imagined he knew I was smirking. He sounded wary. "_I find that when you are happy, I or someone else is about to become injured._"

I shrugged, though he couldn't see it. "Yeah, that's a pretty accurate statement."

Laughter erupted from his end and I rolled my eyes at his violent sense of humor. He always got a kick out of Dib getting hurt, though I'd yet to hear him make a joke to me, someone who was constantly in pain. I wondered if this was because he was becoming sympathetic towards my situation, doing his job, or just smart enough to know not to make jokes at my expense when I was already in a bad mood to begin with. All of the reasons seemed both likely and unlikely for various reasons. His chuckles cut off with a shout and a swear, making my brow rise.

"What'd you do?" I asked, wondering if he was going to have some scars of his own next time I saw him.

He grumbled to himself and I heard some papers rustling, like he was filing things. "_I have knocked over some of my blueprints and chemical lists._"

"What's a chemical list?" I asked, refusing to sound as curious or confused as I was.

I could hear walking around, picking up various objects with impatience as he explained. "_It's, eh, how does Zim explain this to a human . . ."_

My eyes narrowed. It never ceased to bother me how he scolded me for something I had no control over, being where I was born and all. Thus was one of the things about Zim that I _did_ hate.

"_So, you are aware of the labels on the back of the medicine bottles._" It was a statement, not a question. He knew I knew. Which did not make me feel even slightly less irritated that he at least had the confidence in me to know what was on the back of my own medication.

"Yes," I hissed, between my teeth. "What about them?"

His pause voiced surprised at the acidity in my tone, but he disregarded it and continued. "_A chemical list is sort of like that. It identifies what's inside of a specific substance. Irkens use it to identify if a planet's substances are harmful or otherwise useful to them. That's how I discovered the usefulness of paste when it came to water, you know._" This was added with an amount of pride that made me smirk, and annoyingly, a lot of my irritation with him evaporated.

"You think a human could do one?" I asked. The questioned was loaded and I could sense he sensed that himself.

"_I . . . suppose so_," then he laughed, startling me.

"What?" I demanded, thinking this was his response to imagining a human doing something Irkens did.

He quickly muffled himself, reading my source of irritation easily. "_N-No, you misunderstand! I was simply recalling the fact we've had this kind of conversation before._"

My brow furrowed. "No we haven't."

"_Did you forget you lost three months?_" He pointed out, making me all the more pissed. I had, actually, for a little while. I didn't like to think about my incapacity to remember those three months before my accident. All the things I did that I couldn't remember, my progression. Just in general amnesia was unpleasant to think about, let alone experience.

"No," I snapped, refusing to admit the contrary. "But it's hardly my fault for not remembering that particular conversation then."

"_Of course not_," he assured me, before I could get mad. He was good at deflecting my wrath, I realized. I was going to have to fix that. "_At any rate though, you were increasingly curious about the subject. I believe you planned on using your computer or something to try and identify what your pizza was really made out of, or something, so you could make it yourself when you were too lazy to go out and get it._"

Now that certainly sounded like me. However I frowned, struggling to remember something. Chemical list . . . I had done it, I was positive. I never put anything off for long, especially when it involved my favorite pizza establishment. But if I had a list like that, where would I put it . . .?

* * *

After an abrupt pause, she answered me. "_Actually, I have to go, Zim. My dad's calling me on the other line._"

I groaned, "But Zim will be bored without the Gaz to harass!"

She snorted at me, rolling her eyes no doubt. "_That's not my problem. Come on, Zim; I thought Irken Invaders were supposed to tough out everything, not whine to the race of people he's supposed to be dominating._"

I growled. "That was low, Gaz."

"_I know,_" she replied, unconcerned. "_Bye, Zim. And stop calling, you're like a clingy girlfriend!_"

And she hung up on me.

I sighed, knowing that soon enough the boredom that accompanied maintenance work would set in once again and this time, I would have no Gaz to harass. And I could not call back, lest I become a 'clingy girlfriend', whatever that was. For some reason, I didn't care to know, but instinctively did not want to become whatever Gaz was using to insult me. I sighed.

Irken Coding was boring as the Earth-hell.

Well, as I wasn't about to risk letting Gir run around in here to 'entertain' me, I needed something else to do. The numbers provided too much thoughtlessness to prove in any way distracting. In fact, they'd probably just give me a headache. I normally had plenty of things to do to distract me in my base, but since my systems were currently frozen, it depleted a large majority of my options. I could not call anyone _outside_ of Earth. Talking to my computer again was out of the question. Where that damned piece of machinery had found the _gall _to talk to me like that I couldn't even think to imagine. From it's minimal perspective on the events surrounding the Membrane children and myself, I suppose I could imagine where it had got that idea.

From various studies we'd done together, human affection was based very extensively on contact. Intimately invading another person's space for no other reason then to be close to them. Supposedly, it was a good feeling. A pleasurable one even. Which was why humans as a population were so entirely addicted to it. Arguably, the closest experiences I'd had with that kind of contact was with the Membrane children. Both of them, since as a child, Dib and I got into increasingly aggressive fights, breaking any boundaries the other had both literally and metaphorically. However that type of contact was far too aggressive to be interpreted falsely by my computer. Which brought the subject back to Gaz.

I had never once in my life, on Earth or otherwise, struck Gaz. At one point in space, I'd attempted to apprehend her so I could return her brother into my custody, but that had failed rather miserably. I'd just snagged her (well, mine, since she'd stolen it) when she'd broken free and sent us both crashing into the Earth's unforgiving atmosphere. It took me_ months_ to find hers, let alone repair those things!

But that was beside the point. Recently, the computer had observed me invade Gaz's personal space various time. An uncountable amount. For tests and things yes, but they were for her safety, not to . . . well, the point was clear. Various times we'd had her remove her shirt and underthings to examine her bare back. Never had I seen anything, as Gaz had immediately covered herself with her arms and I was courteous enough to hand her a blanket to keep the front of herself covered. Humans were very sensitive when it came to things like that, nudity. And while I very well _could_ have looked, I hadn't. Not simply because I was afraid she'd rip my eyes out of my head if I did, but I had developed a profound respect for the girl. Enough to respect her privacy and not see what she'd rather I not see.

There was also the matter with the salve, which I'd repeatedly had to rub onto her wounds myself. Various times. In fact, I'd probably touched Gaz a lot more in a day than some couples touched one another in a week. Which sounded rather awful, now that I thought about it. Slowly it began to dawn on me that the computer actually wasn't being insolent, it was simply basing its argument off of previous observations.

And _Irk_ were there a lot of them.

Abruptly, a beeping interrupted my thoughts and I sighed in relief as my machines began whining to life.

"Finally!" I shouted out, watching all of them to make sure nothing had any problems. My thoughts had absorbed more than enough time, probably a couple hours or so. And now I wouldn't be bored, as I had tests to run that required my attention. Perfect! No more obsessing about the confusing human-girl!

A warning alarm sounded and I stopped, eyes scanning all of my screens. They all seemed to be running just fine-!

"Oh," I voiced aloud, seeing that it was not an alarm, but the notification of completion.

I walked over, examining the test to see it was Gaz's blood sample comparisons. I ran my hands along the keyboard, pulling up the results and scrutinizing the bolded Irken word.

"Huh," I muttered, peering closer. "What's that?"

* * *

Awwwww shit.

God, I like this SO much better than that kidnapping crap. It's so much more thought out, and just all around better to me. And it STILL hangs on a suitable cliff-hanger! SO TAKE THAT WRITERS BLOCK! SUCK IT! At any rate, I hoped you liked the phone conversation. It just seemed natural to put it in there and actually, it's a rather large development for the next chapter.

What is it that Zim sees? You'll have to wait to see. :)

Till then.


	21. After You, Of Course

Yes, let's do this the RIGHT way, _shall_ we?

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 21  
"After You, Of Course"**

After making myself clean (stupid Gaz; I didn't smell _that_ bad), I'd gone directly to my room to start doing my work.

Considering we'd been celebrating the new year only the day before and our teachers weren't so big of jerks as to assign us work on a holiday weekend, there wasn't a lot that I had to do. So right now, I was being the nerdy, overachieving kid that no one liked and was getting way ahead while I waited for the Swollen Eyeball to get back to me about the blood cultures that I'd sent to them. For English we were supposed to be writing a personal narrative about some ordeal that was particularly memorable or trying for us. I had plenty, was currently experiencing one; none of this I could write about without getting sent to the wacky shack. So I was currently making a draft for a made up story. Call it cheating, or whatever, but I'd much rather make the extra effort to make up feelings and emotions than be put in a psych ward again.

My phone vibrated, emitting a familiar ring-tone and I hit a button on my computer, placing my headset on as the feed channeled automatically through my laptop. I hit the lights on the remote that controlled my room. Admittedly, my room was actually pretty cool. Everything could be done both manually and or by the use of remote-control. Some could be done by voice-activation, but that was a select few that I'd been bored enough to design like that. My sister and I were pretty good when it came to tech, but she was more of a hacker than a builder.

She'd made security for her room and she was satisfied (which was fine, because that stuff was actually pretty advanced material to shove into stuffed animals). Any other thing seemed pointless to her. The only reason I knew my sister liked hacking (or was good at it, for that matter) at all was because when she'd got mad at me once, she'd spent two hours doing what elite hackers couldn't do in two months; hack into my mainframe controls and activate everything to go against what I ordered. And it wasn't a simple matter of just asking for the opposite of what I wanted, no, she'd bugged my whole system to malfunction. It took a 2 month supply of Bloaty's and a very drawn-out, sincere apology, plus a little begging, before she finally went in my room, hit a few buttons, and fixed everything. I was kinda pissed, since I'd been trying to fix it for weeks, but it was done.

At any rate, I answered the phone call. "This is Agent Moth Man. What's the news, Agent Dark Booty?"

"_We've got news on your sister's blood-cultures."_

My face turned slightly worried at the mild hesitance in his tones. "W-What's wrong? She's gonna be okay, right?"

"_We don't know about **that**, Agent Mothman, but there is something that we found. Something wrong._"

I immediately closed my paper, putting it away for later as I pulled up Gaz's medical file up on my computer instead, going to the notes section. Technically, it was not my file; Zim had composed a lot of it, but I had access and added my input or information every now and then. I was with her more, after all. I considered it my job to notice what Zim couldn't possibly see.

"Wrong _how_?" I pressed, fingers poised to begin.

"_We found minute traces of of drug in her system; in comparison to your previous extraction of blood, it seems that she previously had a drug dissolving into her system._"

I stopped, my fingers still hovering over the keyboard. "What kind of drug? Like a Tylenol? Does that mean that the samples contaminated or-?"

"_Not that kind of drug,_" Dark Booty interrupted me, sounding unsure of himself. "_We're not quite sure what it is, as it seems to be something of its own creation, but it appears to be some sort of Benzedrine._"

"Benzedrine? That's impossible, Gaz doesn't do drugs."

"_Either way, it's something you should look into when you have time. But that's not what we're primarily concerned about at the moment. Or what **you** should be concerned about, for that matter._"

I wrote down _'Check for Benzedrine'_ in a note, readying it to send to Zim when I was done with the phone call and had done a little more research on the subject. I was well aware that the Swollen Eyeball wasn't exactly accurate when it came to their lab technicians, as their divisions were unfortunately set up so that one experience lab technician was handling the rest of his team made of twenty or so people, mostly made of half-wit interns. Either way, I was going to do a little digging before I sent Zim anything. There wasn't any need to get tell him anything that wouldn't help my sister.

"What else is there?" I asked, when I was done, giving the agent my full attention.

Dark Booty sighed. "_Dib . . . we . . . don't believe your sister is . . . entirely **human.**"_

I was quiet for a very long time. During that silence, I can't honestly say what I was thinking. There was just a lot of rush of images, disconnecting and reconnecting, things that made sense no longer making sense and vise versa. It was a whirlwind of shock but at the same time . . . this was sorta why I had involved them at all. My laugh was misplaced and disturbing, something between a winded chuckle and a slightly hysterical sob. Not the most pleasant of sounds.

Dark Booty became concerned when I stopped, taking a few slow, even breaths to calm myself.

"_Are you alright, Moth Man?_" He asked, warily.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I insisted. "I mean, I figured my sister's bio-signatures would be off considering the chemicals in the house, being around my dad all the time, but . . . Wow, I mean, are you absolutely positive?"

"_Mostly_," he affirmed, with a tone of voice that could not be argued with. I nearly rolled my eyes. Only the head of the Swollen Eyeball could make a 'mostly' sound like a 'yes' with so much confidence. "_We're still detecting human genes in her, there just appears to be something else as well. Like they merged, as some point. Your theory could very well be spot on about why your sister is sick; it's possible she developed some mutation from being exposed for so long in a household like yours. You should probably get yourself checked as well, Mothman._"

"I don't think so," I replied, shaking my head as I wrote the new information down. "When we were kids, Dad ran a few experiments on Gaz because of this pig-curse that-."

"_Pig-curse?_"

"Eh, it's a long story," I muttered, shivering at the memory. Than I continued, normal toned again. "Anyways, she's been more exposed than I have."

"_You think something remained dormant in her till now?_"

"I don't _know_ anything, but I'm going to find out." I replied. "Thanks for getting back to me, Dark Booty. I've got to go do some research on this new stuff before getting back to my partner."

"_Let me know if you we can do anything else for you, Mothman. We all know how protective you are of your sibling and if our findings prove correct, we'd like to be kept in the loop about the **what**._"

I swallowed harshly. "I understand."

"_Very good. Best of luck, Mothman. Agent Dark Booty out._"

The line went dead.

I sighed, looking at the information before me; Benzedrine, the effects of experiments on my sister, and her genetic code. It wasn't much, but it was plenty to branch ideas off of. Taking into consideration the ideas just around those tests my dad had run on Gaz when she was little, I had a lot of work to do. I had to hack into my dad's old mainframe myself, since I didn't want to enlist Gaz's help and made her suspicious, and find the document that had logged everything. That was the only way I was going to find out if any of the chemicals she'd been given had the potential to do anything, create any type of dormant mutation that would've caused what she was going through now. Just that was going to take quite a lot of time off my hands.

Glancing at the clock that it was getting into the later part of four pm. Hmm. Maybe I should check on my sister. Besides, we should probably decide on dinner soon. If we were gonna try and cook something, we'd need at least a couple of hours and early 7-ish was a good time to eat. Any later than eight and Gaz would become irritated enough from the hunger to rip my head off, and as I liked my head right where it was, I decided to go downstairs.

She was sitting on the couch, the phone off the receiver next to her.

My brow rose. "Who were you on the phone with?"

She sat up, noting my presence in the room before answering. "Zim. He got bored doing whatever and called me. I had to tell him Dad was calling just to get him off the line."

My brows furrowed. "He's not here?"

"Nope," She replied, shooting my a look. "He hasn't been here for hours, stupid."

I shot a glare at her. "Well how am I supposed to know if no one told me? I should've been watching you if he wasn't here!"

She shrugged, turning away again. "Enh."

I rolled my eyes, leaning over the back of the couch. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Bloaty's." Was her automatic answer. But I'd learned to pause before accepting this, as sometimes she changed her mind. "Burgers."

Like now.

"Burgers?" My brow rose. "From where?"

"Your problem." Was her immediate reply. "Now stop bothering me with your questions."

I sighed. Well, I couldn't cook for the life of me. At least, not without my sister supervising and vise versa. So that was kind of out of the question. since she seemed to be in such a lazy mood. Or some sort of mood. I don't know, maybe her back was just acting up again. Honestly, I was kind of afraid to ask her, but if it got bad enough I could just read her face and then I wouldn't have to ask any questions; just a direct call to Zim.

But I couldn't help but glance repeatedly at her. I was positive she knew, but she ignored me. Eventually I stopped pushing my luck and set to work trying to figure out where I was going to have to drive to get burgers, but I couldn't get Dark-Booty's words out of my head. My sister having some sort of mutation from a chemical . . . made me nervous. I'd felt awful when I'd given her that Piggy Curse. If something had lingered from that, I wouldn't be able to live with myself until she was cured.

"So why'd he leave?" I called to her from the kitchen, as if I was going out, I might as well pick up some groceries on the way if we needed any.

I saw her wave a hand over the bed, dismissing it. "Said his house was bugging out or something. He got a call from Gir telling him to get home and then when he called, he said his computers froze or something. He was coding them when I hung up on him."

My brow rose, aware that everything I said was a question and she could turn around and backhand me for it at any moment. "You know when he's gonna be done?"

"Why?" Her voice was mocking then. "You miss him?"

I snorted, shutting the fridge. "Hey, I wasn't the one who spent four hours talking on the phone with the guy."

"I did not spend four hours talking to him." She snapped, irritated, but it was clear I had won. "He said by tomorrow, at least."

"Wow," I whistled. "His hard-drives must be _fried_ if it's going to take him a whole _day_ to fix."

"Dunno," She replied, sounding disinterested. "Not my problem."

"Hey, those computers are trying to save _your_ skin, literally." I teased, laughing. "Don't you care-?"

"No." Was her immediate reply, barely giving me time to finish my question. ". . . Not really, anyways."

I shook my head, nearly hitting it on the cabinet I was looking through. Extracting myself, I changed the subject. "So, we're good on groceries. Looks like we'll only need to get the burgers and come home."

"_We_?" She questioned, sitting up to peer at me through narrowed eyes.

I snorted. "I've left you alone long enough. You're coming."

She stuck her tongue out at me and laid back down. "What time is it?"

"Like 5." I answered, sitting on the chair next to the couch.

"When do you wanna leave?"

"I don't know. I'm not really hungry yet."

"You've been up in your room all day! How are you _not_ hungry?" She shouted, stunned, peering at me suspiciously. "Are you trying to lose weight or something? You're already skinny as a twig, Dib, you can't really afford to get any skinnier."

"I'm not anorexic!" I snapped, irritated. "Fine, you want to go _now_?"

"Mm," she replied, laying back down. "I'm not really hungry yet."

She snickered when I threw my hands up and screamed.

* * *

I worked well into the night, the next morning, that afternoon and was now pushing daylight of what the human's called 'Sunday'. According to the monitors outside, the sun would be rising in around few hours time. It made me nervous to ignore the human's for an entire day, but I became oddly confident if something was wrong, they'd contact me. And besides, I really didn't have time to waste worrying anyways.

Just because my system's were working didn't mean the data hadn't been damaged, it seemed. My computer had acted quickly, of which I was thankful for, but even the quick get shot in the leg sometimes. Currently, I was stitching up the wound, so to speak. I was retrieving the scrambled data, unscrambling it, and then finding its respective place. Which was making me feel anxious.

Right before the system had alerted me to the corruptness of the data, I saw a phenomenon. In Gaz's Dynamic Code(1). Which was never good. If there was anything I was hoping _wouldn't_ show an anomaly, it was her Dynamic Code. Which, unfortunately, I couldn't look at properly until everything was in the right place. I was tempted to call the Dib-stink and demand that he just bring his sister over for another scan, but this would be overreacting if it turned out the blip was just misplaced data. And then I would get punched (or worse) by said Dib-sibling when she claimed I wasted her time.

I growled. I was getting far too used to those children.

"MASTER!"

Damn it!

I spun around in my chair, antennae twitching in irritation at the screech my SIR unit was creating. It was surprising I'd only been alerted of his presence because of his yelling. Normally I heard the elevator ding, or him running down the hallway. I dismissed it as being absorbed in my work and waited as he skidded to a halt in front of me, eyes wide.

Immediately I was suspicious. "What, Gir?"

"The TV!" He shouted. "Its screen went black!"

I felt like slapping my forehead. Instead my eyes drooped. Honestly, I should have expected it. "Well did you turn it _off_, Gir?"

He stared at me.

I sighed. "Did you hit the big red button on the remote?"

"Oh!" He nodded vigorously. Then his antennae drooped as, for once, he came to the correct conclusion on his own. The same word was spoken, but with far more dejection. "Oh."

"Yes," I agreed, turning back to my work. "Now run along, Gir, I have work to do."

"Oooh, watcha doin'?" He asked, jumping to sit on my shoulder and watch.

I was used to this and paid him barely any mind, adjusting easily to the familiar weight. "I'm fixing the Gaz-human's data. It became scrambled when the computer's systems froze."

"Ohhhhhh." He drawled, though I doubt he understood a word of what I said. I could feel him grinning, kicking his legs a little as he did so. "I like the scary lady! She gots hair and a face an' everything!"

This actually made me pause, giving Gir an incredulous look of disbelief. Sometimes I really had to wonder what was wrong with my little SIR unit, however fond of him I'd become. "Uh . . . yes, Gir, I suppose she does . . ."

"She's pretty too," Gir continued, in a dreamier voice. "All the other humans is funny-looking, huh Master? Except for Big-Head! I like Mary too! He's got a head like a piggy! I LIKE PIGGIES-!"

"GIR!" I shouted, flinching away from his screech. "No yelling next to my antennae!"

"Mkay!" He replied, smiling, regardless of the fact I'd yelled at him.

I shook my head and continued, ignoring him for the most part as I worked. For a few minutes, it was surprisingly quiet, considering my SIR unit was in the room on my shoulder and not otherwise occupied with a rubber piggy.

"You think the scary lady's pretty too, Master?"

I sighed. Why was all my equipment suddenly fascinated with the relationship between the Gaz-human and I? "I wouldn't know, Gir. I don't pay attention to the looks of human."

Gir got quiet. And suddenly his voice was sad. "You _used_ to say she was pretty . . ."

This made me stiffen, my whole body completely tense. He noticed.

"Master?" He poked my cheek. "Are you broken?"

"We're not going to talk about that, Gir," I warned him, trying to calm myself down. Honestly, I was stunned he'd remembered that at all. "Remember? The Gaz human's broken, not me. We don't talk about that."

"But _why_?" He whined, childishly. I began to suspect he was on the verge of throwing a fit, something I wouldn't put past him. Gir acted more like a smeet than any piece of technology _I_ knew. The microwave was more advanced than he was. "I never get to talk 'bout nothing!"

"This is precisely because you refuse to keep your mouth shut." I retorted, with a hiss. I noted Gir was indeed pouting now, his arms crossed and I sighed, picking him off my shoulder and placing him on the counter nearby, as far away from any distracting buttons (or just anything in general) as I could place him while still being convenient to my reaching length. "I thought we talked about this already, Gir. No talking to Gaz until she's better, or you learn to watch what you say."

Gir's eyes watered. "B-B-But . . .! I don't wanna!"

For once, I remained unfazed by this classic _Gir_ look. My gaze hardened instead of turning sympathetic. "This isn't an option, Gir. You do or you don't. And I certainly don't trust you _now_. Not now that you're sniveling and complaining."

He looked like he'd been struck, antennae shooting up and watery eyes widened. And then he slumped, single antennae drooping behind his head as he looked at his tiny robotic hands, folded in his lap.

"Sorry, Master." He said quietly.

I sighed, patting him on the head. It was about as much affection as I was willing to offer, we both knew it. And he brightened visibly at the touch, though I could still see he was upset. Maybe I was being a _little_ harsh, but there was no reasoning with Gir. You had to be strict, or 'no' turned into a 'maybe' and so on. This was something I was _not_ willing to budge on. And whether he liked it or not, those were the rules I was setting. He was going to deal with them one way or another and if pouting and complaining was his choice, so be it. But this was how things were and I refused to give him any hope to the contrary.

I wasn't _that_ cruel.

"It's alright, Gir." I told him, offering a slight smile. "Eh, why don't you go watch TV? I'll have the Computer run a Scary Monkey marathon for you, okay?"

"MONKEY!"

He was on his feet in seconds, bolting towards the door and raving like mad about every detail on that show and how he loved it. I smirked, beginning to turn around again when far too quickly, things were quiet. I stopped, turning towards Gir to see he was still there of course, hand gently pressed to the side of the table and staring at a wall, his back to me.

"Gir?" I called. "Are you alright?"

". . . I miss the _old_ scary lady." He said suddenly. I heard the remorse in his voice, like he was . . . mourning something. And in a way, he was, and it made me sick to my squeedily-spooch.

To this day I'm not sure if I heard Gir correctly. Whether the defective SIR unit was spitting more nonsense or saying something he knew long before anyone else, including him, could have known at the time. His head turned towards the roof, seeing something I could not. And for a moment, I was sincerely worried for how much he missed the human girl. Gir had this bad habit of getting attached to people, strangers or otherwise. And then he turned towards me, eyes red. I recognized it at once.

Duty Mode.

My brow rose. "Gir?" He glared, startling me. "What is it?"

"_The things are ready to come, and only the bad man knows the secret to stopping them._"

My brows furrowed immediately. "What are you talking about?"

And then his eyes averted and he was laughing, pointing at my no doubt startled face. "Ha! You's look like a pig!"

Within the next moment he was running again, like he hadn't taken a break, and was out of the room before anything else I could be said. My eyes narrowed in disbelief at this . . . easily the most _absurd_ thing Gir had done yet. I shook my head, turning back to my work and putting the thought out of my head.

"Computer," I ordered. After a few seconds I heard the acknowledging beep of the house turning back on. "Run the Scary Monkey show on repeat for Gir as needed."

"_**Yes, Master.**_"

I nearly sighed in relief at the lack of back-talk. I had a feeling it knew if it acted up again, I wouldn't hesitate to shut it down.

I was nearly finished, which was good news. I was working on the last of the files, the last pieces to this horrible mess my computer had created. To keep myself from starting another fight with it though, I refrained from such thoughts, constantly reminding myself how much worse it could've been. That this was perfectly alright.

So slowly, achingly and almost painfully so, I pieced my machines back together. I worked to the point my fingers hurt and I was running on near PAK-auto when mercifully, my computer sent me the first clear notification I'd gotten in _days_.

"**Systems Complete.**" My computer announced. "**You may now continue your studies.**"

"VICTORY!" I shrieked, jumping to my feet and throwing my arms in the air. This was an impulse I had yet to even acknowledge and did not care to. I felt a rush of relief, of triumph, over my crappy systems. "VICTORY FOR ZIM! No stupid, out-dated technology can even HOPE to triumph over the patience of ZIM!"

My computer said nothing.

"Computer!" I ordered, still basking in the glow of the glory that was _me_! "Show me the comparisons from earlier! I wish to examine the Gaz-human's Dynamic Code."

"**Shall I run a search for anything before you look at it?**"

I shrugged, sitting back down finally, realizing I was kind of tired, the lack of rest or even movement really from the past two days finally hitting me, and knew my eyes might miss something. So I nodded. "Sure, why not?"

"**Scanning . . . Scanning . . . Scanning . . ."**

I nearly groaned. This could take forev-.

"**Done.**"

My antennae perked up in surprise. "That fast?"

"**I've updated. As I said, production should be much faster now than what we're used to.**"

I snickered in wicked pleasure, thinking of how much more productive I could be with my plans now that I had a decent working machine. Really, I was kind of glad for the push. That thing needed a tuning anyways; Earth's atmosphere and weather really did a number on Irken machinery.

"**Various anomalies detected, sir. Would you like to examine?**"

I snorted. "Obviously."

They pulled up instantly, showing the amount of results. My eyes widened and I blinked a few times.

"Computer," I asked, listening to the beep that meant it was listening to me. "What time is it?"

"**About four in the morning, Earth-time. Why?**"

"Enh . . . that's more than enough time for sleep. Call the Dib-human!"

"**Yes, Master.**"

* * *

I woke with a start, having been asleep, to the sound of my phone ringing in my ear. I scrambled to flip it open before it woke Gaz up, although, the walls were pretty think. Either way, I didn't want to risk it, and it could be an emergency.

"H-Hello?" I yawned, half-awake, other hand scrambling for my glasses.

"_Dib-monkey._" A serious voice rang out. "_It is Zim._"

"The 'Dib-monkey' thing kind of tipped me off, Zim." I rolled my eyes and then froze, my brain processing as I slipped my glasses on. I bolted upright. "Wait, why are you calling me? Is it Gaz? Did you find something? Is she okay-?"

He could hear the onslaught of questions coming and hissed, silencing me but in no way stifling my panic. "_Your questions are irrelevant. Your sister is obviously not fine, or you wouldn't have called the Almighty ZIM, would you?_"

I growled. "Not the time for semantics, Zim."

He snorted, continuing. "_You don't even know what I'm going to say, Dib-stink, and are in no position to be judging time, but very well. Yes, I found something. But it is . . . strange, not life-threatening. Or, not anymore, anyways, now that I've found it._"

I adjusted my glasses properly, still careful to watch how loud I was speaking. "Well what is 'it', exactly?"

"_Dib-stink . . . the Gaz-human . . . is not the Gaz-human."_

My eyes widened, slowly moving towards the door, whispering now as a slow feeling of fear crept over me.

"Are you saying my sister got replaced by something that_ looks_ like my sister?" I squeaked. And suddenly every case of body-snatching and replacement came rushing back to me. My hand inched towards the weapon I kept under my pillow instinctively. A squeak in the house made me shudder.

"_Eh? No, you idiot, she's still your sister! Stupid, inferior Dib-human and his stupid paranormal stupidity. . ._" He grumbled, as an after thought. Then he huffed, continuing. "_What Zim is TRYING to say is that Gaz is not human. Hence her not being Gaz-human._"

Oh. Well that made sense in a convoluted way.

But . . .

"_It's completely impossible, though_." And suddenly his voice sounded slightly panicked, like I had, before he'd made me stop asking questions. Like he was about to go on a rant. "_Zim has seen the girl since she was a little smeet! What else could she BE, yes?_"

"Zim." I tried, to get him to stop.

I was ignored.

"_My computers are not malfunctioning. Yet the scan and the second scan to check have both proven this anomaly, the lack of human DNA where there SHOULD be human DNA it's . . . it's just impossible! And my scans never lie, they're Irken! Perfection! But, how could I have missed this? I would have seen it!_"

"Zim," I growled, irritated.

"_But I DIDN'T see it! Me! Zim! After three months, we're only finding out NOW that your sister is a mutant of some sorts! I mean, not that she's inadequate for not being human. Being human isn't exactly something to be _proud_ of, all things considering. But still, she's never BEEN human, which though explaining a lot, is still unnerving. It also explains why my experiments have hardly worked; I've been basing them all on HUMAN techniques, of which she is not in affiliating with. OBVIOUSLY she's going to work slightly differently. But, I mean, this is YOUR sister we're talking about-._"

(2) "_ZIM_!" I interrupted, immediately lowering my voice, glad my father had chosen to build the house with thick walls. Nervously, I glanced around, fearing my sister had heard me. When there was no shout for me to keep it down, or a threat on my life, so I continued. "I _know_."

* * *

I skipped a couple days with Zim because I felt like having a bit of Skool come back. Being in the hospital for a few days and then going back, you appreciate it, oddly enough. Just actually_ doing_ something feels oddly relaxing.

AWWWWWWWWWWW fuck! What's about to go down? Obviously Zim's not going to react well to being kept out of the loop that is Dib's (according to Zim) 'minimal knowledge'.

At any rate, I was going to continue, until I saved, and realized how long this thing was. So you'll have to wait to see his reaction.

**THIS WAS HOW I WAS ORIGINALLY GOING TO WRITE GAZ'S REVEALING!** GOD, it feels so good to have this shit PLANNED and not retarded! It's so much better than what I was going to originally do! GAH, what a relief! Hope you're liking it as much as I am!

Till the next chapter. :)


	22. Only Inhuman

K, fight till the death? Sounds like a plan.

Just kidding.

WE HAVE MORE SECRETS TO KEEP FROM GAZ NOW, YAY!

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 22  
"Only Inhuman"**

For a long, tension-filled moment, there was deathly silence. The kind of silence where you're waiting for the twig to snap and for someone to jump out of the bushes and slit your throat. I got slightly uncomfortable, wondering if he was waiting for me to explain or something.

What the hell was he doing?

And then he spoke, in a tone that radiated fury.

"_What do you mean you _know_, Dib-monkey_?" Zim growled. It was a tone he normally reserved for Gir.

I sighed, waiting for the moment he started yelling. Zim was just that kind of person, I'd come to realize. You annoyed him, did anything in general, he was going to start yelling. How Gaz managed to have such an obscene tolerance for it, I didn't know.

"That blood-sample I sent to the Swollen Eyeball," I reminded him, dully.

He remembered. "_Yes, yes, your theory. What about- oh._"

"Mm_hmm_," I replied, matter-of-factly. "If you'd have stopped to listen long enough for disregarding my 'inferior human-brain' as stupid, you would've seen it had some validity to it. I mean, granted, I just thought it was exposure to my dad's chemicals for prolonged periods of time, since she hung out with him more than I ever did and got tested on that one time, and you're trying to tell me she's never _been_ human, but still. You get my point."

He growled again. "When_ did you find out?_"

I hesitated.

"_TELL ZIM NOW!_"

"This morning!" I replied automatically, if only to silence him. "Geez, Zim, relax. It's almost 5 in the morning for Pete's sake!"

He pondered this briefly. "_Why did you not tell Zim?_"

"It was a notification from the Swollen Eyeball, on the lab tests I sent them. And as their lab tests aren't always accurate, I was going to do some research before confirming it to you," I explained briefly, not sure if he was going to start yelling again. I _really_ wasn't in the mood for it; I'm not a morning person, in case you haven't noticed.

Eventually, Zim seemed satisfied. "_Yes, well, you shouldn't have involved them. Did you ever stop to think what they might do to her if she's not exactly harmless_?"

I paled. No, I hadn't, actually. And suddenly those words, the notifications I was going to have to send the Swollen Eyeball about my sister's condition, the updates, seemed so much more menacing. "What do you mean? Can you_ prove_ that she's-?"

"_Use your common sense, Dib-stink!_" Zim snapped. "_Your sister has never been natural. Or kind, for that matter. It's only logical she was built, er, born- whatever! As Zim was saying, it only makes sense she isn't exactly a kitten or something._"

I sighed worriedly, placing a hand on my forehead. "Kittens aren't mythical creatures, Zim."

"_Unimportant._" He insisted, offhandedly. "_Right now, we need to let your sister know what exactly is going on with her. Possibly see if she might know anything about it herself, because I wouldn't doubt she'd keep secrets from us for the sake of revenge, for us doing the same to her. Also, she'll be rather irritated if we hide something from her again._"

My brow rose. "You want me to wake her up _now_? Are you _insane_? She'd kill or set her security on me before I could say one word to her!"

Zim let out an exasperated shrieked. "_Must Zim do _everything_?_ _Fine, Dib. It seems you're too much of a baby to be useful._"

"Hey! I'm useful!" I snapped. "And what do you mean? You're not coming over here, are you?"

"_Well _someone_ must wake the Gaz . . . thing. And you're not going to do it, so obviously Zim must_!"

"Don't let my sister here you calling her a thing," I warned. He gulped and I continued, obviously getting the point. "And it's almost five, Zim! You're not coming over to my house at some ungodly hour! It can wait till she's up."

"_You've pointed the time out several times, Dib-stink. I only find it fair to let you know that no matter how many times you say what time it is, I will not care anymore than I do now. Which is not at all._" Zim replied, and I knew by the noise he was getting ready to leave."_And no, this actually can**not** wait till morning. This needs to be handled immediately to prevent any further damage._"

"There's been no damage yet!" I snapped, hyper-aware that the volume of my voice was slowly rising with my irritation levels.

Zim's voice took a condescending tone to it. "_The scars?_"

I didn't have a rebuttal for that. At least, not an immediate one, which is all the rebuttal Zim gave me time for.

"_As I thought. Zim will be there soon. Expect me._"

And then he hung up.

Immediately I groaned, flipping my phone shut and getting up to make myself at least semi-decent. As decent as someone could be at this hour. Normally I slept in only my boxers, as was currently the case, so I definitely needed to throw on my pajamas before that idiot came over to unleash the hell that was my sleep-deprived sister. I guess it would be kind of funny to watch him get the crap beat out of him. Whatever.

I rolled out of bed, feeling my body's protests but ignoring them as I dug through my drawers, locating a pair of sweats and just throwing a t-shirt on. After this I peeled open my door quietly, wary of waking my sister. It was kind of stupid, since she was going to get woken up soon anyways, but still. I wasn't about to be the one to get beaten; that would be Zim's job.

Tiredly, I yawned. I immediately realized that to stay up, I was going to need energy in the form of caffeine or sugar. And then I realized that Gaz would probably want this as well for when she woke up. So in a second I was down the stairs, having quietly closed my door behind me, and didn't dare turn on any of the lights until I reached the kitchen, for fear of them reaching Gaz, somehow. Was I being paranoid? Yes. But I'd rather be weird then piss of my sleepy, achy sister.

I started to make coffee, something neither of us were particularly fond of, but something that would do the job nonetheless. And I'd just set the water to heat when there was an insistent knock on my door, making me cringe. Automatically, I waited for some sort of shout from upstairs, but I heard nothing. So with a sigh of relief I rushed to the door, opening it with a furious glare.

"You idiot!" I hissed, in a muted tone. "You almost woke her up!"

Zim rolled his disguise-less eyes, shoving me aside as he entered my home before being invited. "Stupid Dib-stink; that is Zim's whole purpose for being here!"

At the shouting I cringed again, shutting the door behind him. I made another move to berate him but I only turned to see him already walking up the stairs, completely ignoring me. I sighed, knowing my presence upstairs wouldn't exactly help anybody, and so went back into the kitchen to finish making the very much-needed coffee.

_Man_, I hated mornings.

* * *

Vaguely, I was aware of a jostling on my shoulder, none too gentle, but not particularly pressing either. I was aware in the back of mind that today was Sunday, not a school day, and nothing should be waking me up. Thus, I ignored it.

"_Gaz_," A hazy voice insisted, quietly. "_Come on, wake up._"

The gentle shaking did not stop and my brows furrowed. I became determined to remain in bed. I muttered something akin to 'go away' and rolled away from the pressure, my back pressing against the mattress as I switched sides.

My eyes shot open as soon as the sheets and my back came into contact.

I shot up, gasping awake. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me, my eyes staring into nothing as I became consumed by the intense pain my back was feeling. I squeezed my lids shut tightly, feeling myself shake with the pain and grit my teeth. I absolutely refused to scream. I did not scream. I did not show pain.

But _damn it_ if this didn't hurt like a bitch!

"Gaz?" An alarmed voice pressed, one I quickly recognized, now that I was awake.

My eyes shot open again, to Zim's face, as I felt hot tears streak down my cheeks. I couldn't bring myself to be ashamed as I flinched, a wave of pain knocking me breathless for the second time since I'd woken up. It felt like a physical blow had been dealt to me, sending me lurching forward. I stared at my knees as I sat doubled over, still shaking, my hands balled up in the sheets draped over my bottom half. I felt Zim's hands grip my arms, forcing me to sit up and look him in the eyes.

"I need to look at your back." He informed me, seriously. "Is that okay?"

I didn't understand why he was telling me this. I gave him a simple jerk of my head, turning my face away from him so that he wouldn't see me crying, however unwillingly. Even in this nearly unbearable amount of pain, I still had a bit of pride left in me.

And speaking of pride-.

Zim's hand went to mine, uncurling my hands and lifting my arms above my head. I opened my eyes, peering from the corner of them as I saw his PAK legs extend towards my shirt. It tugged at the hem of my shirt, attempting to lift it over my head. I immediately understood why Zim had asked my permission and resisted a blush, since I wasn't really embarrassed. I didn't exactly have enough thought to be embarrassed, my head engulfed in the flames of my back. I _did_ however have the common sense to pull my sheets up to cover my chest. (1) Despite the fact Zim probably wasn't even aware, nor interested in the normal meaning being allowed to see a female topless, I still wasn't about to reveal that to him when it wasn't necessary.

His gloved hands felt cool on my back, dampening the fire but also making me whimper, despite the fact I was biting my lip. It was a pitiful noise, one that I answered back with a hiss of annoyance towards myself. Zim's hands paused, probably thinking his touching had something to do with it.

"I'm fine," I insisted through gritted teeth, probably startling him with my correct assumption to his thoughts. I tilted my head towards my ceiling, squeezing the sheets tighter to my chest. "Just do your stupid evaluation!"

At my shout his hands continued, but with far less hesitance than before. I clenched my teeth, resisting a scream as his hands seemed to be ripping at my wounds, as if trying to pry them open. Over my own noises (of which I could no longer hold back, much to my personal shame and irritation) of pain I could've sworn I heard him growl, but as I couldn't be sure, I ignored it. It wasn't until I felt some type of salve being lathered onto my back did I stiffen up, eyes widening at the intense cold that it brought. I shuddered a bit as I felt it seeping into my skin, cooling the burns. My breathing was labored as I controlled the urge to start screaming but soon that urge died down, leaving only the lingering chills radiating through my torso.

"Better?" Zim asked, moving in front of me. It was only then, seeing him adjust the glove already placed on his hand, did I realize he'd just done that bare-handed. Under different circumstances, I might've been curious as to what his hands looked and/or felt like, but now was hardly the time to ponder his anatomy.

I nodded, shivering again, wiping the tear-streaks off my cheeks with one hand, the other still clutching the blanket to my chest. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He eyed me speculatively before deciding I was telling the truth and nodding. "You should go back to bed; obviously, try and keep off your back in case any of the flares come back. The medicine should work until I make something stronger. I'll have it by the afternoon tomorrow, eh, today, at the latest."

Suddenly something occurred to me. Zim had probably saved . . . something of mine. Like those random heroes that showed up in the movies without anyone expecting them to, and without having to be called.

"Why are you here?" I demanded, in completely disbelief.

Zim stilled, as if the question had thrown him. And then he shook his head, dispelling the initial surprise before smirking at me, reaching a hand out to tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear. My brow rose as I continued shivering, surprised at the somewhat intimate gesture. A moment later he retracted it, eying me another moment without the same affection in his gaze before turning and beginning to walk out of my room.

"You need to rest, Gaz," he ordered. "I'll come up in a few minutes with something hot to consume to try and stifle your chills."

My eyes narrowed, despite the somewhat kind gesture. Aside from the fact he'd probably helped me from being in extreme agony for who knew how long, he still had ignored my question. Why the hell _was_ he here? What, was the idiot physic or something? I sighed, lying on my stomach, not bothering to retrieve the shirt that was now lying somewhere on the floor. I pulled the rest of my blankets up, cocooning myself in it and deciding to be content with not moving until my body heat returned. That, or until Zim brought whatever thing up he had in mind.

I sighed, closing my eyes as I forced myself to calm down.

This was turning out to be one hell of a weekend.

* * *

_This was . . . definitely not what I had anticipated._

I scowled in thought, still feeling the detestable sludge on my hands, something I'd have to worry about and clean up later. Besides, with my gloves over them, it wasn't exactly going to be a problem. But still, the fact Gaz's back had gotten so . . . disturbing looking, I couldn't help but feel troubled. How had those scars gotten so big? And so _raw_? I'd only seen it yesterday!

I heard noise in the kitchen and looked in, finding the Dib-creature making something, it seemed.

"What are you doing?" I questioned, stepping cautiously into the room.

Dib turned, peering around me. "Coffee. Where's Gaz?"

I sighed, which made his brow raise. "She woke up with back pains again."

Dib groaned, clutching the mug tighter in his hands. "She okay?"

"For now, yes." I made a face. "But her flesh around the scars seem to be deteriorating faster than I could have even anticipated. Or, at all, really. If I didn't already know she wasn't entirely human, I would be completely 'stumped' right now, as you humans call it."

Dib nodded, becoming nervous. "So . . . did you tell her, then?"

I shook my head, frowning. "I don't think I'm going to anymore."

"What?" He demanded, shock shooting across his face. "You can't just not tell her, Zim. She of all people should be the one to know about this right now. And you know how she reacted when we didn't tell her about her memory lapse; what do you think she'll do if she finds out we've been keeping _this_ from her?"

I scowled at him. "And how do you think she'll react to _this_, Dib-stink? Certainly your big head hasn't deluded itself into believing she'll be alright with this new knowledge."

"Gaz is stronger than you're giving her credit for." He argued, irritated.

I resisted the urge to hit him, my hands clenching into fists at my sides so tightly that I was able to feel the sharpness of my nails through my gloves. "You don't understand what it's like to realize your whole life has been a lie, Dib-monkey. You can't possibly know how she'll react to this."

Dib looked at me a long moment. And neither of us said anything. But I was too pissed to become uncomfortable.

Finally, he spoke.

"I know what you told Gaz. Before she lost her memory."

I stilled in surprise, feeling my squeedily-spooch shudder inside of me. "She . . . said something about it?"

Dib shook his head, setting his mug down as he crossed his arms. "Gaz only told me what happened, which was honestly more than what I expected her to tell me. But even if I didn't know, you think I haven't noticed by now?"

"I don't understand what you're talking about. Zim has done nothing."

"I'm not stupid, Zim." He shot back immediately. "But regardless of what you did and how Gaz reacted, you can't let that get in the way of what you know she wants. And it's _not_ to be protective about every little thing because you think it'll be too much for her."

My eyes narrowed, about to retort when the steaming mug behind him caught my eye. One of my antennae rose. "What's that?"

"What, this?" He asked, retrieving the cup once more and shoving it towards my face. I flinched slightly as some of it sloshed and some of the drops splashed in my direction, but I wasn't touch. "It's coffee. You've been on this planet for how long and you don't recognize coffee when you see it?"

I snorted at it in disgust, quickly leaning away from the offensive liquid human's called 'coffee'. "It looks like liquid dookie."

"It does n-. . .!" He peered into his mug, trailing off with a thoughtful look on his face. "Oh, huh. It does."

"Told you."

He shook his head quickly. "Don't change the subject, Zim. As soon as Gaz is feeling up to talking, we're telling her. Immediately. Got that?"

Reluctantly, fighting every nerve in my body that ordered me to strike him, I shrugged. While the action was stiff, Dib didn't seem to notice. "I suppose she's _your_ sister. Just keep in mind that Zim isn't going to clean up after you, should you make consequences for yourself."

Dib's brow rose. "What . . .? Whatever, here."

He pulled out another cup, shoving it at me. I immediately recoiled from it, again. "Eh, no thanks, Dib-stink. Zim doesn't drink Earth-liquids."

The monkey rolled his eyes, still holding out the cup. "It's not for you, Zim. It's for Gaz. It's warm and it'll wake her up."

"She needs _rest_." I argued. "Make something else that's warm for her to consume."

Dib sighed. "Fine. _I'll_ take it up to her! Geez, Zim, stop being so difficult today!"

"I'm not being difficult!" I shouted, following him up the stairs. "You're simply being the annoying and disagreable Dib-stink! It's not Zim's fault that all of your ideas are stupid!"

"My ideas aren't stupid!"

As soon as the door to Gaz's room opened, a rather violently flown pillow shot forward, landing less than a centimeter from Dib's head. My eyes immediately went to Gaz, who was lying on her stomach hugging some sort of stuffed animal and glaring warningly at us over another pillow.

"Shut." She growled. "Up."

"Morning Gaz." Dib said weakly, smiling warily. "Feeling better?"

Much to both of our unease, she simply continued glaring at us over her fuchsia-colored pillow and rather disturbing-looking stuffed animal. Were its eyes glowing red . . .?

"I brought you coffee?" Dib pressed, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Her brow rose, easing some of the initial harshness of her gaze. Now I understood why the Dib-monkey was so against waking his sister up in the morning. It was strange to me that she acted like this now when earlier she had seemed like her normal distasteful self, but now it seemed she had finally reverted into the little terror Dib had feared waking. That, or she was simply annoyed at her rest being interrupted by our arguing, but either way, she was more pissed off now than a few minutes ago.

"Gimme," she ordered, holding her hand out expectantly.

Immediately Dib was beside her, nearly spilling the steaming liquid in the process but somehow managing to keep it all in that stupid porcelain mug. He placed it in her hand, his eyes widening as he realized what he couldn't see from the door but what I already knew; she probably still wasn't wearing a shirt. Not to say he saw anything, which would no doubt traumatize the hyper-moral-sensitive little monkey, but the shock of seeing her exposed back had probably been what threw him. However, I didn't understand why he was suddenly glaring at _me_.

I rolled my eyes at his silent accusation, giving him a look that clearly questioned whether he was mad or not. His eyes simply narrowed further a moment before looking back at Gaz, who was ignoring the both of us and sipping gently at the dookie-liquid.

_She should be resting_, my mind growled. And then my antennae quirked a moment, a slow smirk dawning my lips. Thankfully, the Dib-stink hadn't noticed, or I'd probably be in trouble by now.

I crossed my arms, hiding my smirk with casual inquisition. "Why your species enjoys drinking things that look like your own fecal matter is beyond Zim."

And she reacted perfectly.

Immediately she spat out her drink, all over Dib, which I hadn't anticipated, but it was a bonus. Her eyes widened in disgust as she eyed her drink, immediately holding it out for Dib to retrieve as smacked her lips together, no doubt thinking about eating her own feces. Dib took it back bitterly, handing it to me as he passed me, mumbling something about going to change his pajamas. I looked to Gaz, snickering to myself, only to see her glaring at me accusatively.

"You did that on purpose." She stated, plainly. "Why?"

I shrugged. "You need to rest. Coffee wouldn't have allowed that. Also, it's true."

"You've probably ruined every brown drink I will ever see again."

"Zim feels honored to have traumatized you so."

Gaz's eyes narrowed, her teeth baring at me. Vaguely, I was reminded of a feral cat, but Gaz was so much more terrifying. "Jackass."

I rolled my eyes, hiding my initial terror. "Oh, do not be so melodramatic. Your kind has drinks specifically named 'Poop', and is also brown. I don't understand why this suddenly affects you so."

Her eyes widened and then she grimaced, hiding her face in her pillow. Her answering tone came out muffled, but I could still here the disgust in her moan. "Oh geez, that is so gross."

"Praise the words of enlightenment on your _disgusting_ species that are Zim's!" I shouted, victoriously.

She sat up, giving me another glare. "You know, for someone who wants me to be going to sleep so badly, you're being awfully loud."

I held up my hands apologetically, nodding. "Yes, you are right. Excuse me."

Her brow rose, but she nodded, laying her head back down on crossed arms. "Whatever."

"Shall I leave?"

"Mmhmm," she eyed her blankets, sitting up as she rubbed something between her fingers, apparently displeased. "But I'm gonna go downstairs and sleep on the couch in a few minutes. I spit on my blankets."

"Should I salvage more for you than?" I offered, politely. She eyed me suspiciously, as if she wasn't sure if she could trust me. I huffed, crossing my arms impatiently. "Oh my Irk. _Honestly_, Gaz-human, you're going to have to trust me_ sometime_ or another. I've already seen _and_ handled you in more than vulnerable positions. Don't you think if I intended you harm, I would have done so by now?"

She scowled, obviously not enjoying the lecture and looked down at the sheets. At first, I didn't think she was going to give me an answer, but finally, her fists clenched around the sheets and she muttered my orders.

"The spare blankets are in the downstairs closet, to the right of my father's lab, in between the bathroom and the Panic Room."(2) She so neutrally that at first, I was surprised. And then her eyes flashed up, a fire in them that made me both relieved and frightened; relieved, because it was far more normal than her previous meekness, and frightened, because Gaz was currently scary. "Why are you still in here? Get out! I have to get dressed!"

And I bolted, shutting the door behind me and also nearly spilling the offending drink on my thankfully gloved hands. I hissed as a drop nearly missed, calming my nerves down before heading down the stairs, nearly throwing the mug in the sink (admittedly, I'm still not sure if I broke it or not) before heading off to the aforementioned closet. I located it quickly enough, for a moment wondering why Gaz's instructions earlier hadn't seemed so odd. Then again this _was_ the Membrane household; I suppose the architecture was the last thing I really needed to be concerned with.

I retrieved all that I could carry, which included a couple of pillows, before taking the sleeping utensils and dumping them on the coach, beginning to fashion a bed for the little human, tucking one blanket into the cushions of the couch to secure its position for optimum comfort and simply laying the others on top. By the time she came down, pajamas in-tact, I had made the perfect sleeping fixture and was sitting on it, where her feet would go.

She eyed it carefully before nodding in acceptance, lifting the covers and burrowing herself inside. I smirked at her nearly-asleep form, turning back to the television that I'd already turned on, glad she didn't seem to mind. After all, I wasn't going to be spending the next several hours or so tolerating Dib's presence, and I needed _something_ to do while I was keeping an eye on his sister.

"Hey Zim?"

One antennae rose at her sleepy voice, noticing she still had her eyes closed. "Yes, Gaz-human? Is there something you would like for Zim to retrieve?"

She shook her head, yawning. "No. Just . . . thanks, I guess."

My eyes widened impossibly. The Gaz-human was . . . thanking me? I couldn't help the small smile on my face, watching as she hid herself further in her blankets.

"You're welcome, Gaz."

And while I didn't get a response, I could've sworn I saw her smirk a little before drifting into unconsciousness.

* * *

(1) Slight nudity, feel the sexiness.

(2) Only in the Membrane Household is that not weird to say in the slightest.

Small hints of Zim/Gaz smut.

So what the hell are Dib and Zim hiding from Gaz _NOW_? Well, certainly Zim wouldn't have told her the irrelevancies, right? I'd elaborate, but I feel I'd reveal too much. Just know that it'll be known eventually. Maybe.

Can't we just take a moment to _D'aw_ at their cuteness and refusal to acknowledge the obvious?

I know, I know: WHAT THE HELL? GAZ ISN'T HUMAN?

All will be revealed, or at least, most of it, in the next chapter. Keep in mind that today, for them, is EARLY Sunday morning.

**And I have no intention of making them go to Skool on Monday. ;)**

What the hell is about to go down? You'll have to wait and see.

GEEZ, I love this so much more than what I was originally going to do.

Till the next chapter!


	23. The News

So, this is a very hectic chapter, or at least, a lot needs to happen and I'm changing it from how I originally planned because I said so.

Let's see if I can do it right.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 23  
"The News"**

Gaz ended up resting the majority of the next day, sleeping an unnatural 12 hours straight before briefly waking up to eat, when Dib made her, at dinner and then going back to sleep on the couch. I'd periodically gone home to check on Gir, putting him in sleep mode before returning here to watch her again, having a bad feeling in my spooch. I sat on the edge of the couch again, where I had stationed myself, her feet barely touching my lap.

It seemed I'd nodded off while watching Gaz, something that surprised even me. Irkens rarely went into hibernation mode. It seemed that the events of the past few days had taken quite the toll on me. But regardless, I was woken up by a gentle whimper, far too quiet for a human ear to start to. Fortunately for me, I am Irken; we have antennae.

I didn't ever get to wake up peacefully, it seemed.

My eyes opened automatically, looking to see Gaz still curled up into a ball in her blankets, but shuddering. A quick check of my PAK clock informed me that it was 6:00am, far too early for her to be waking up to get ready for school (although, after sleeping so long, I wasn't sure if I was going to have her stay home, and then have ditch myself to keep an eye on her). Hypothetically, it could've been just her unusual sleep schedule from yesterday, but still, something didn't seem right.

"Gaz?" I prodded her foot with a finger, gently. She made another weird, moaning noise, and I saw her form quiver from underneath her many blankets.

She wasn't having something as trivial as a nightmare or something, was she?

My hand went automatically to her forehead, noting the slightly sheen of sweat along her brow. My eyes widened at the warmth radiating through me, even to my gloves. I immediately recoiled, wiping my hand on my pants before standing, fetching water (very carefully, mind you) since there was no time to go make the Dib-thing do it. When I brought it back, setting it ever so carefully on the table, I knelt next to the shivering girl. Her shivers completely baffled me; she was warm, how could she be _cold _as well?

"Humans and their sicky germs." I muttered, cupping her face in my hand and stroking it gently with my thumb. "Gaz, wake up."

Her eyes opened slowly, and this close I realized how pale she was. Paler then usual, actually, which was disturbing and made her seem almost white, like she radiated the color along with the heat. She groaned immediately, her hand going to her head and running through her slightly wet hair, no doubt from her perspiration.

"Ugh," she groaned in complaint. "I feel like shit."

"You're running a fever." I informed her, glancing at the readouts on my wrist. "My PAK says it's 102 even."

She groaned again, shoving at my wrist weakly. "To hell with your PAK."

I frowned, resisting the urge to become cross with her. "You've probably got the flu. I suppose it's only expected. You were running around diving in oceans, half freezing to death, and then getting little rest the next day. Your human systems are weak, and you've succumbed. I suppose the pain from last night didn't help you recuperate either."

Gaz stuck her tongue out at me, flinching as she touched her head. "Damn it, if I get a migraine-."

"Relax, Gaz-human," I soothed, though I had intended it to be more of an order than a phrase of comfort. "Zim will have the Dib-monkey call you in sick today and tend to your needs until you become well enough to return again."

Her eyes narrowed in confusion, looking at me through her barely parted fingertips. "Don't you have to go to class too?"

I shrugged, carelessly. "Zim ditches frequently. No one has yet to notice, nor care. And it's not like my 'parents' are making me go."

She snorted once, smirking a little, and I couldn't help but be pleased I had made her laugh, despite the fact she was obviously not at her best. I slipped my hand away from her face, not realizing I had left it there, and she too seemed surprised at not having realized it was there at all. I reached behind me, grabbing the water and handing it to her.

"Sit up and drink this." I ordered, though still it came out softly.

When she eyed it with distaste I pushed it towards her further and she simply looked at me, her gaze flicking to the cup, to me, and back, with equal disinterest. I sighed, putting it down on the floor and wrapping my hands underneath her torso with one arm and pressing her too me, in what felt like and probably looked like a hug. I felt her freeze up, ignoring the fact she probably was assuming the worst.

"What are you . . .?" She broke out into coughs, which courteously she did over my forearm instead of actually on me.

"Fixing your pillows for you to sit up comfortably." I explained, glad I had kept my voice steady.

It was . . . _familiar_ to hold Gaz, something I'm sure she noted as well. Frequently it was me who ended up carrying her somewhere, as the Dib-monkey was completely innept when it came to calmly transporting his younger sibling somewhere without bothering the hell out of her with questions on whether he was comfortable or not. He was insecure about that to the point of almost ridiculousness, so to avoid that, I simply took her, should she have proved unable to walk. While I'd only carried her a few times to her memory, I'm sure she recognized it, at least a little. Or, that was what I told myself.

When I was finished, I gently laid her back down, noticing that she was looking at her hands in her lap and not me. I handed her the glass again, pretending not to notice her discomfort, knowing my acknowledgment of it would only make matters worse. "Now, drink."

Reluctantly, her hands lifted, but it quickly became clear she wasn't going to be able to do it alone. One of my hands went to the back of her head, the other remaining on the glass as I gently tipped the liquid through her parted lips, praying to the Tallest she wouldn't spit it back out on me. While she was courteous enough not to do something as painful to Zim as this, she did jerk abruptly backwards after a few seconds, almost making me spill on her.

She swallowed, grimacing. "It tastes like poop."

I couldn't resist, smirking at her. "I'm sure you're familiar with _that_ taste."

She scowled at me.

I just grinned a little more.

Apparently, she chose to ignore the remark. "Is Dib going to be up soon?"

I glanced at the digital clock in the room, now at 6:12am. "Yes, he should be up any minute. Do you want to watch TV or something? You're going to be lying on your back all day, you might as well be doing something to keep your mind off your illness."

She shrugged, taking the remote I handed her. "Sure, why not?"

I nodded, standing. "I'll go fetch the small trash-can from your room, in case you throw up."

Gaz grimaced, but nodded, looking at the TV. "Ugh, okay, whatever."

I did so, hearing her channel scrolling, mumbling to herself about how everything sucked. I snickered a little, despite myself. In her room, I could hear Dib across the hall, just as his alarm clock went off, no doubt at 6:15. He got up far earlier then his sister did, as Gaz normally took less time getting ready, since Dib liked to do . . . whatever it was that took him so long. Despite the fact I'd studied my former assailant well, his morning hygiene routine was never something I'd studied, nor wanted to study. That was simply a line we were not going to cross when it came to the invasion of the other's personal-time.

"Dib-monkey!" I shouted, banging on the door. I heard muttered cursing as he no doubt struggled to become decent, and rolled my eyes. "Do not bother opening the door, Dib-stink. I simply wish to inform you that your sister is sick and you shall be going to Skool alone today. Do not worry about staying to watch her, Zim shall take care of that. You may simply go about your _filthy_ Earth day."

"Sick?" He opened the door despite what I said, dressed, but sloppily so, and without his trench coat. "She okay?"

I nodded, ignoring his disregard of my instructions. "Yes, she will be fine. She most likely has your common flu. After all, she did sleep far too much for it to be healthy yesterday, and was in less-than-ideal conditions Friday night. This was only expected."

He nodded back, seeming concerned, but only to a point now that he knew it wasn't something to do with her _other_ illness, if we were still calling it that. "Right, okay. I'll be down in a minute to check on her anyways."

"Very well."

And I turned and left, hearing his door shut again as he properly dressed. Really, he should've been thanking me. In his scramble, I'd probably reduced the amount of time he took to get dressed at least in half, since I'd been here two mornings now and knew well that he, unlike his sister, moved like a sloth.

When I was back downstairs, it seemed Gaz had settled on watching the news. Why she he chosen what most humans considered the most boring of channels, I was not sure, but that's what she was doing. As if reading my inquisitive look, she nodded.

"Dad's going to be on around 7:45 right after Dib leaves for Skool." She informed me. "I want to see what they're getting him to build now, so I know what he'll be working on when he's not home."

I nodded, sitting back in my segregated spot beside her feet. "Are you in the mood to try eating?"

She grimaced, shaking her head as vigorously as she could without making herself dizzy. "Not even kind of."

"You only ate dinner last night." I reminded her. "Granted, you ate a little more than one normally would, but still. That's not nearly enough for a healthy Earth day."

Her feverish face softened in thought, for a moment catching me off guard as she thought of something I could not know. I watched her, my own gaze softening as I watched the fresh sun nestle on her face, basking her pale and flushed face in a soft light. She didn't seem to have noticed the sunlight yet, or I'm sure she would've asked me to close the window, cursing the sun to hell while doing so. But instead she continued gazing through the television, resting her head against the pillow and looking more relaxed than I thought she could ever be.

"I think you're right about the human immune system being weak." She said, breaking the silence and the moment of my watching. Thankfully, I had controlled my face not to gawk, or I'm sure that would've raised questions as her face turned to look at me, surprisingly without much resentment to her admittance. "We need daily maintenance, whereas I barely see you do anything with that PAK of yours."

I shrugged, letting the comment slide as the result of feverish delusions, despite the fact that she seemed almost entirely in control of her thoughts. Gaz rarely ever admitted I was right, and I doubted these were one of those rare circumstances. I wasn't going to take much of it to heart unless she mentioned it again when she was better.

"A PAK doesn't require much 'maintenance' as you say." I admitted, folding my arms behind my head. "But even Irkens can have bad days, occasionally. And they also need rest. Which is what _you_ should do for the next few days."

Gaz scoffed, sticking her tongue out at me (which, I noted, also looked pale). "Okay _Dib_."

My antennae rose beneath my wig, which I'd retrieved during one of my house visits, having anticipated going to Skool today if Gaz insisted she was fine. But honestly, I was surprised she referred to Dib as her overbearing father-figure instead of her real father. Then again, said human was rarely around in her life, as far as my knowledge went. And Dib was protective to the point of annoying on a regular basis. I suppose it was a fitting comparison.

"Why is he me?"

Gaz's eyes shifted minutely towards the voice and I turned, seeing Dib walked down the stairs, a towel resting around his neck.

"Morning, Dib." Gaz replied, changing the subject, apparently not in the mood to explain our conversation.

He walked to the edge of the couch, leaning over it to see his sister, who glared up at the shadow that she hadn't expected to come over. "Hey, sis. How you feeling?"

She glared harder at him, which was something that was starting to make me uncomfortable. These emotional shifts she had so frequently were starting to throw me. While speaking with me, she always seemed to be defensive, but at the same time . . . not. While when her brother was around, her tolerance level dropped increasingly. I wondered vaguely if this had anything to do with him, or me, but either way, her shifts were becoming more noticeable with every conversation we had.

I hadn't realized in my musing that I'd zoned out of the conversation Gaz had with Dib, but when I pulled myself from my thoughts, Dib was in the kitchen, and the sun was now far more noticeable. Gaz seemed to just be realizing this and was now blinking, squinting as she tried to locate the source of her troubles. Almost automatically I stood, going over to close the curtains before looking back at her.

"Better?" I asked.

She nodded, curling the blankets around her further. "Thanks."

Again with the gratitude. It was painfully obvious how sick she was, but I kept it to myself, encouraging her to drink more water as I helped. From the corner of my eye I saw Dib in the kitchen, watching us, but I ignored him. Let the Dib-stink be paranoid while I took care of my charge. She drank about half of the glass, slowly, before she threatened to spit it on me, so I decided to try again when she was in a less irritated state, after Dib left. It was almost 7:30 by now, so he should've been leaving soon anyways.

"Sssh," She shushed me, when I reminded her again she needed to eat something. "Dad's coming on."

"Bye Gaz." Dib called as he left.

She gave a mumbled reply, but kept her eyes focused on the screen. I nodded at Dib and he nodded back before shutting the door behind him, thus leaving myself and his sister home alone. Boredly, with nothing else to do, I looked towards the TV, watching a camera hover in a circle over an auditorium filled with public figures. Gaz's eyes drooped, revealing she was tired, but fighting the urge to just try and go to sleep. I didn't argue with her, choosing to pick my fights for today carefully.

She lifted finger, pointing. "There he is."

And there he was indeed, in a stark of a lab coat as ever, standing in front of a pristine podium. Behind him several irritated looking men eyed the crowd, speaking brief words to each other as the newscaster continued explaining the "absolute vital importance of the meeting Membrane has called for society today regarding his most recent experiment." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, knowing Gaz would somehow see and smack me for it.

Membrane raised a singular black gloved hand, and the room was silent.

"Welcome, esteemed colleagues of mine." He said, and at the volume Gaz had it at, it was as if we were in the room with him. "Thank you for for gather today at my request. Today we'll be discussing a project of mine that I've been working on for some years now, as a side-project, with the ever-helpful funding of my wonderful sponsors."

Gaz snorted. "Seriously, sometimes my dad is like a walking commercial."

I smirked, one of my claws patting her on the foot. "Indeed."

She yawned, nestling further into her blankets as we continued watching.

"Recent developments in Project C2-F have made it clear that we can proceed moving forward in the advancement for mankind's well-being once more, preserving ourselves and learning from a new species entirely. A species that I myself have been creating."

Murmurs in the crowd made him pause, giving Gaz the opportunity to speak.

"Figures." She muttered, sounding almost bitter at this new announcement. "My dad's made more technological devices than anyone could've thought possible. It only figures he's messing with genetics now."

But his announcement had struck a chord in my squeedily-spooch. Thankfully, despite the fact I was still touching her, she did not seem to notice my abrupt stillness. My mind was racing and beneath my wig, my antennae were twitching like crazy, making me thankful they were hidden, lest they tip the human girl beside me off of my worry. No, I was wrong. It was simply not possible. Unrelated.

This was what I chanted repeatedly in my mind as Membrane cleared his throat, continuing.

"We ran a prototype for my project, of course, which succeeded vehemently, leading us to C2-F."

_Impossible._

"C2-F's function is to serve the human race with its enhanced abilities, which are top-secret as of now and will be released to the public after its successful assimilation into the world it was born to serve, and allow us to study it, as well as build from it. However, my colleagues feel it would be smart if I let you know of the . . . _controversy_ my project will bring-."

"Is it dangerous?" Someone shouted out, interrupting his lecture.

Gaz hissed. "I hate it when people do that."

_So she watches these often? Well he IS her father, but . . . no, it's just not . . . I'm overreacting. I'm becoming paranoid, like the Dib-stink._

_Damn the Dib-stink and his stinky, infectious habits!_

Membrane however, seemed wholly unfazed. No doubt by years of having these kinds of things happen to him. "As of now, no, but we'll be running tests to ensure that its personality can properly conform. Currently it's cooperative, and has handled the situations we've thrown at it well, but we've yet to really try anything that would truly tests its ability to adapt to the situation. That will be the pivotal turning point on the success or failure of C2-F, but I'm entirely confident that things will go as planned."

"Wonder what kinds of things they've been doing to it down at the labs." Gaz murmured to herself, curiously, still not noticing how much this was making my spooch churn.

"You keep calling your project an 'it'. Does this thing have a gender or are you simply not associating C2-F with one?" Another person shouted out. This time, she remained quiet, but I knew instinctively of her irritation now that she'd told me.

"Yes, it has a gender." Membrane confirmed, and I could've sworn he sounded amused. "It's a girl."

I couldn't stop the angry hiss that escaped between my teeth.

Gaz's eyes flicked to me, a brow raising. "You okay?"

I shook my head, saying nothing as my eyes narrowed suspiciously at the screen. "Give me a moment."

"Eh . . . okay."

"Aren't you worried some people will find it offensive that a female is the gender of the project you designed to serve humanity?"

"As I mentioned, it's part of the controversy." Membrane continued, seeming more in his element the more he talked about . . . who I thought he was talking about. "While the feminists will certainly be at my throat, I have no doubt that the Catholic, Christian, and a few other churches will be at my throats for my little creation as well."

"What did you make, the Devil?" Someone called out, making the audience laugh, as well as Professor Membrane himself.

I could still feel Gaz's eyes continuously flickering to me, still interested in her father's press conference, but curious as to what was wrong with me. I could feel my hands digging into the cushions of her chair, having removed the one resting on her foot in the event that I hurt her quite by accident while trying to control myself.

Membrane shook his head, quieting the laughter. "Quite the contrary, actually."

And I could feel his pride radiating from him as he stood up taller. Briefly, though the camera was not even remotely focused on them, I thought I saw his 'esteemed colleagues' on the stage behind him glaring at him. For what reason, I didn't pretend to know; human's never made much sense to me anyways.

"I, Professor Membrane," he announced, proudly. "Have successfully created a fully functional, stable, female Angel."

There was deathly silence in the room. And then all Hell broke lose.

And not just on the television.

I was on my feet in an instant. "We're leaving."

"What?" Gaz demanded, using the little amount of energy she had to sit up. "And where exactly do you think you're taking me? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly in a position to move, Zim."

"I'll have Gir get the Voot Runner-no, wait, I turned him off." I rubbed my temples, pacing repeatedly, like nothing was moving fast enough. "Where are your car keys?"

"Zim, what the hell is going on?"

"What do you mean an _Angel_?" Someone shrieked over the TV, cutting through the other enraged voices mingling to form one mob of fury. Noticing this cutting voice, the other reporters quieted, though they certainly didn't become silent completely. "That's impossible! That goes against everything in the-!"

"The Bible itself, as far as I am aware, has nothing against bringing God's creations to us." He argued back. "I have done nothing wrong."

"YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!"

Gaz flinched at the increased volume of the TV, which I didn't blame her for. It was making the ringing in my head louder, and it made it more difficult for me to sort out what was going to happen next. I took a deep breath, speaking out loud. I always thought better when I spoke out loud, and I knew that unless I told Gaz the truth, we weren't going to go anywhere.

"The reason I came over last night was to inform you that I had discovered foreign DNA in your body on my labs, after I updated them."

"What?" She demanded, sitting up further, the shock of adrenaline probably helping her ignore her less-than-adequate condition for the moment. "You're trying to tell me I'm not . . . human?"

"No," I confirmed, still pacing. "You're a half-breed, technically. Based off a human body but genetically altered. That's why none of my medicines to cure you have been working; they're all for humans, of which you are not."

"And when were you planning on telling me!" She shouted, anger ebbing into her voice. "I thought we were done with this secret shit!"

"Quiet, human!" I snapped back, spinning on my heel to give her a furious look. "You may yell at Zim later! We do not have time for this!"

I walked over and picked her up, careful that she kept a blanket wrapped around her before carrying her up the stairs. She didn't protest, simply staring at me, probably not having expected me to react so violently to her yelling. I set her down on her bed, which Dib had stripped of the blankets and cleaned, so that they were no replaced and fresh again. I tucked these over her, searching through her room until I found her suitcase.

"Your brother found out shortly before I did, and we were going to tell you in the morning, but your back-. Well, you understand. Anyways, I was planning on taking you back to my base when you were well again to see if I could discover something else, but given the circumstances, hiding you is now far more important then your health."

"Why?" She asked, still suspicious, but not nearly as loud as she was downstairs.

I shot her a look of disbelief as I shoved her clothes (not particularly neat, mind you; that wasn't exactly my priority at the moment) into her suitcase. "Did you not hear your father, Gaz?"

If possible, she paled even further, the pieces in her head seeming to click. I watched her from the corner of my eyes as I continued packing her things, half-heartedly making things pick, not even aware of what I was touching and just aware that it was hers and it was now in a bag. Her hand lifted to her shoulder, fingertips brushing against the still angry red marks on her back.

"He was talking about me." She finally stated, sounding like someone had punched her in the gut. "I'm C2-F."

"_Yes_," I hissed, though I really didn't mean to sound so irritated. This was what happened when I got stressed and she was simply the only thing here for me to take it out on, given my SIR unit wasn't present. "And he's going to find you, Gaz, if you stay here. We'll work out further plans when you are safely tucked away in Zim's base but for now, we simply pack and run. Understand _now_?"

She nodded, still seeming winded. I couldn't imagine what was going through her head, but as I ran into the bathroom to retrieve the toiletries I knew of before shoving them into her rather large (convenient, really) suitcase, I couldn't also bring myself to care very much. All I knew was that we needed to get the hell out of the house _now_. I could afford to be sympathetic later.

Finally I slammed the top shut, zipping the bag before looking at her again, repeating my earlier question. "Where are you keys?"

She pointed to her desk. "Top drawer."

"I'm going to shove this in the car," I told her, digging through her drawers as I found what I was looking for. "I've easily packed at least a weeks worth of clothes in your bag, probably more. Anything else we'll worry about when we get to it. I'll be back in a moment."

She nodded and I practically ran down the stairs with the dark colored suitcase, throwing the garage door open and tossing it in the back in less time then should have been possible. I didn't close anything as I darted back upstairs, finding her in the exact same position as I had left her.

"Is there anything you'd like to bring?" I asked her, bundling her up again before picking her up.

Gaz shook her head, leaning her against me. ". . . No, I'm . . . I'm fine."

I didn't waste time arguing with her, or showing concern about how completely strange she was acting. I only had a one-track mind as I carried her carefully but quickly down the stairs, placing her in the passenger seat of her car before darting inside again, retrieving the blankets and pillows on the couch before throwing those in the back as well, shutting that door before going around front. My base didn't exactly come equipped with comfort items, so it was best to bring those before I needed them later. I closed the garage door, locking it before beginning to back out of the garage.

I slammed on the breaks when her hand gripped my arm, nails digging into it as she strangled the life out of it.

"What about Dib?" She demanded, eyes wide with panic.

I removed her arm gently, still speaking in a commanding tone as I continued to pull out onto the road, waiting to ensure that Gaz's garage door closed behind me before getting on the road. "You let me worry about him. Besides, I doubt he's in any trouble. It's _you_ your father wants, not him."

"No, Zim." She sounded on the verge of hysteria, blatantly controlled as she dug her hands into her chair. "Dad-, er, Membrane mentioned he had a first project that was succesful. What if Dib was that project?"

I shook my head. "Unlikely. He doesn't have your symptoms."

"Yeah, but how many times was Dib in a hospital?" She argued. "How easy would it have been to give him medication to hide that?"

Her argument was valid. I frowned, but shook my head. "We can't think about that right now. I'll call him at lunch on a secure line if I can and let him know what happened, but if it's not safe Gaz, he can't know where you are. If worse comes to worse, I'll kidnap him at some point and hide you both, if you'd like, but you are my charge, not Dib, and so you're my priority."

This made her quiet.

I sighed, feeling a growing irritation stir within me. Though for once, it wasn't directed at anyone else. It was my own personal impatience with myself. Because honestly; how many times was I going to make Gaz uncomfortable? Despite my constant complaints that she didn't trust me, I never seemed to ever really be earning that trust by snapping at her so frequently. As I knew, with humans, trust had to be earned, not assumed. Irkens didn't have trust; only loyalty. But we weren't on Irk, and Gaz was the last person one would expect to be trusting.

"Look," I began, in a much gentler tone. "I'm not trying to upset you. I just . . . don't want to see you get hurt, alright? I'd rather be paranoid than careless."

She was quiet, but I had a feeling this was the quiet of thought, not fear or anger. Eventually, Gaz's voice rang out quieter than mine in the confines of her car. "You're really sticking to your deal with Dib?"

I stiffened, my hands gripping tighter on the wheel.

I couldn't lie to her again.

"It's more than a deal," I said simply, reluctantly. I smirked a little, keeping my eyes on the road and feeling hers boring holes into my head. "After all, we're friends, right?"

". . . Friends?" She tasted the word slowly, like it was completely foreign to her. "I mean . . . yeah."

That was more than I had hoped for, so I continued. "So, as a friend, Zim is more than happy to keep you safe. Deal with your brother or otherwise, Irkens have a rather hard to break habit of taking particular care with what they own."

"Own?"

"Friendship." I clarified. "Is not something I am familiar with. This is how I will react."

I could tell by the half-amused smile on her face that she was no longer irritated with me, although she'd yet to uncurl herself from her human cocoon she created with the blanket, but still, that could've just been because she was sick. And by the flushness on her face, still fairly so.

"I'm used to Dib being protective." She informed me, glancing sidelong at me. "But I never thought I'd have to deal with _you_ too."

"Yes, well." I laughed, shooting her a smirk. "Get used to it."

* * *

Read into that as you please.

HOLY FUCK.

More of my plot is revealed! But is Membrane really talking about Gaz, or is Zim being paranoid? And what is Dib going to do if Zim can't reach him on a secure line and he comes home to find both of them gone? Keep in mind he knows nothing of the conference, nor the assumptions his sister and our beloved alien have made, so for all he knows, Zim has gone back on his word and has kidnapped his sister. Well, I mean, easy; he'll just storm over to the base and get her.

But will they be there by the time he makes these conclusions? *troll face*

Till the next chapter, cause this one is WAAAAY too long!


	24. So Stationed

I'm grounded from the computer.

So thank the lord for my Itouch! :D

Foolish parents! You cannot keep me off the internets just by taking away my computer privileges!

I love being a 21st century kid.

And fuck it.** I'll just update every week instead of every other week.**

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 24  
****"So Stationed"**

Currently, I'd set Gaz down on the couch, until we could officially work out what course of action was going to be taken. She was by no means looking any better than this morning. In fact, if anything, she looked a little worse. Which worried me immensely, but she insisted she felt no worse, and as there was really no arguing with the girl, there was nothing I could do.

"Cold?" I asked her, seeing as she was shivering. I'd encouraged my house to use the heater installed in the base for once, and it was currently warming up. By her gentle shaking, it had yet to fully kick in.

Gaz shook her head. "It's the fever. We call them chills, where you'll be boiling one second and freezing the next."

I grimaced. "That sounds unpleasant. I am glad we do not have such illnesses on Irk."

She nodded, that thoughtful look that kept showing up on her face for the past few hours or so (during which I'd been running around my base making arrangements for her temporary stay here) returning once again.

"Something on your mind, Gaz?" I questioned, sitting down next to her, keeping a safe but comfortable distance between us.

Gaz's face stilled automatically, probably not even realizing how her face so easily expressed that she was thinking about something. Her head laying on the arm of the couch, her shifting eyes were easily able to find my face, despite the odd angle, since I was sitting up. They flicked quickly away as she curled just slightly tighter around herself, sitting up slowly.

"A little bit." She admitted, though obviously reluctant. Her mouth contorted into a frown, one that was obviously frustrated. Apparently her thought process wasn't as smooth as I had suspected. "If I'm really a . . . an Angel like my dad said, why didn't he take more care of me? Or pay more attention to me?"

Despite her pause, I understood it was not my time to talk. In all honesty, that thought had yet to occur to me. But I hadn't really had time to ponder while Gaz, doing nothing but sitting on the couch and occasionally seeing Gir, probably had been thinking about this since the car ride over here.

"And another thing." She continued, proving my theory right. I had a feeling if she'd had the energy, she'd have been pacing. "How come all of this is only happening now? Shouldn't I have had some sort of . . . I don't know, notion of something extra about me? Some sort of duty -if my function really _is_ to serve the human race like my dad said- to serve Earth? I hate Earth! We're a waste of space! The last thing I want to do is help the disgusting people on this planet that I don't even care about."

I took this into consideration, resisting a smirk at the unnecessary rant given the seriousness of the situation. "It's possible that that's supposed to be your motivation; that you're so disgusted by Earth that you're willing to take control to fix it."

She scowled, her nails digging into her sheets. "Maybe."

I tried to smile reassuringly, rubbing her shoulder gently. "As for special abilities Gaz, I'm afraid you're selling yourself short on that one."

Her brow rose, shooting me a confused and mildly suspicious look. Briefly, her eyes flickered to my hand, but as she made no move to remove, neither did I. Swallowing my anxiousness, I continued.

"Compared to every human on this Earth that I've ever come across, as well as some species of alien, you are by far superior in intellect than anyone I've ever met or studied. You've had an instinct to understand both machinery and people with hardly more than a superficial glance. Intellect aside, you're far stronger than someone your age should be. Especially one who hardly does more than play video games 24/7, except for the occasional rescue of her brother when he gets into trouble. You don't need to practice to be better than everyone else. For you, success is instinctual. In fact, your father probably created more of an Irken than an Angel. Although, admittedly, I don't know much about what one is."

Gaz had been giving me a strange look since I'd started my explanation of her. But at my lack of knowledge of an Angel her face changed, and her hands went to her back.

"Angel's . . . have wings." She began, slowly, her eyes narrowed at the floor. "Zim, what if the scars on my back aren't an injury. What if I'm supposed to, like . . . turn into something?"

I scowled, a claw touching my chin thoughtfully. "Do you think you're going to cocoon, like your Earth-larvae?"

She snorted, a smile tugging at her lips for a moment before it evaporated as quickly as it had come. "I'm not a butterfly Zim."

"Well I told you! Zim knows nothing of how Angels come to be." I pouted, crossing my arms.

Gaz leaned her head back against the couch, her voice coming out tiredly as she explained. "They're normally religious figures. They're supposed to represent purity and innocence."

I couldn't help the snort of disbelief, one antennae rising (my disguise had been tossed aside long ago, after I'd shut any crevice in my house-base that could be viewed, just in case someone saw Gaz inside) on my head. "_You're_ supposed to represent purity and innocence?"

Her eyes widened, apparently not having drawn these connections. For a moment, I thought I'd offended her in some way, although that would be unjustified, considering I was right to be shocked. Gaz wasn't exactly the gold-hearted creature I had a feeling these winged things were supposed to be. She was pessimistic, cruel, and continued to draw victims in with her appearance, whether she liked it or not.

And then, much to my surprise, she threw back her head and started laughing.

* * *

I couldn't help it.

To anyone else this situation in general would have been absurd. To my family, finding out I (and possibly my brother) were experiments of some test my father had been running as a _side-project_ for 16+ years wasn't actually that surprising. In fact, I marveled that the idea had never occurred to me before now. In all likelihood it was quite possible Zim and I were being extremely paranoid, but if you didn't know the entire facts about something, be completely paranoid about it. At least, that's what I was going to go by for this situation anyways.

While Zim tried to hide it, he looked completely confused at my reaction. So I eventually stopped, resisting the urge to continue snickering under my breath, and shook my head with a resigned sigh.

"Sorry," I apologized, laying my head against the pillow again. "I think my fevers making me act funny."

Zim nodded his ascent to my statement, touching my forehead through his gloves again. "Speaking of which, are you feeling any worse? We should be hydrating you, now that I think about it. I'll have Gir go out and get . . . whatever it is humans require when they are ill. Water in bottles, for one thing. My lab doesn't exactly come equipped with drinkable water for one thing, and I doubt you'd want to eat any of the food Gir eats. If you weren't sick before, let me assure you, you would be after."

"I'm no worse than before." I smirked. "And good to know. You need like a list of sick-people things or something?"

He made a face before shrugging. "I suppose that would be of use. Are you sure you don't simply wish to rest?"

I shot him an irritated look. He backed off. Then I sighed, tilting my head back a little to stare at the mess of wire and technology that he called a roof. Really, you couldn't even see it there was so much crap. "Sorry. I'm just . . . irritated is all."

One of his antennae rose, and I couldn't blame him for seeming surprised. It was a rare thing for me to apologize, but now that I'd thought about it, I'd been doing more and more of it lately. Not just to Zim, but on occasion, I was pretty sure I'd said it at least _once_ to Dib. Which was something that should not have been possible. I felt like flipping myself over and smother myself in the pillow mirroring my body-heat, but I was pretty sure Zim would just flip me back over anyways, and my attempt to kill myself would probably lead to an unnecessary conversation.

"Understandable." He stated simply, shrugging and leaning back against the couch.

I sighed, rolling onto my side, trying to ignore the ache in my back. "I'm going to sleep. I'll give you a list later."

He seemed to notice my uncomfortable squirming. "Do you need something to help you fall asleep?"

One of my eyes cracked open to peer at him. "Like what?"

"A sedative of some sort?"

My eyes immediately snapped shut, shaking my head. "I'm not exactly in the mood to take any medications right now."

"Very well."

I sighed, curling tighter around myself. The feeling of the blankets against my feverish skin was irritating, but comfortable at the same time. Like lying on a plush carpet, but being allergic to the fabric it was made of. My body eventually relaxed, despite my hyper-awareness of my aches and pains. They seemed almost natural now, but that didn't make them any easier to deal with.

Softly, to where I could just barely here it, I thought I heard humming. Whether I couldn't understand because I was too tired to make sense of anything, or because the words weren't in English, I didn't know. All I knew was that, in it's own way, it was kind of soothing.

And then I drifted off, with the noise still echoing in my ears, lulling me to sleep and stumbling around in my dreams.

* * *

"Dib Membrane?"

"Here." I replied, automatically, staring out the window. My chin was propped up on my hand, lost in my thoughts, worrying about my sister. I was starting to think that it had been a pretty stupid move to have come to school. I wasn't going to be able to concentrate on anything today. Not knowing that Gaz was home sick, even if it was nothing more than the flu. I mean, come on, in her condition, who was to say that her immune system was healthy enough to fight this off? Who was to say that she wasn't going to get sicker? It made me feel better knowing that at least she had Zim with her, but not much better. Sure, Zim could do a lot more than I ever could, but still, things were getting . . . complicated with that situation. Priorities were getting mixed up.

Someone cleared their throat and repeated my name a little louder, interrupting me from my thoughts.

"Hm?" I mumbled, turning away from the window towards the front of the classroom. I immediately whipped off my glasses, shining them against my shirt a second before slipping them back on. This . . . was definitely not something that happened every day.

"Dib Membrane," a dark-skinned man in sunglasses, and an equally black suit. Beside him was a slightly thinner white man, dressed exactly the same, and no less terrifying. "Please come with us."

My eyes shifted from side to side, feeling uncomfortable with everyone's eyes on me, including the teacher's. They were all staring, like they expected me to slide coolly out of my chair, as if this was nothing new, and then maybe fly off on a jet parked on the front lawn.

They were sorely disappointed.

I blinked, every bit as baffled as they were. "Eh . . . Do I need to take my stuff?"

"Yes," the same man said. "And please be quick about it."

"Um, eh, okay . . ." I mumbled, pulling my backpack over one of my shoulders quickly. Thankfully, since third period had _just_ started, I had nothing out, so all I had to do was zip it up and I was ready to go. I was never one to keep people waiting but at the same time, these guys made me nervous. I especially didn't want to keep _them_ waiting.

They stepped aside, motioning for me to go before them. The white one muttered something to my teacher, a thank you and a no doubt empty promise to have the administrator update her on what was going on. I waited until they shut the door before they stationed themselves on either side of me, and the three of us, probably making quite the little procession in the school's hallways, to start asking questions.

"Are you guys with my dad?" I asked. Honestly, that was the first thing I thought of when I saw these very official looking men. Other than the Swollen Eyeball, I couldn't think of anyone else who'd want anything to do with me. At least, no one who looked this intimidating.

The dark one nodded. "Yes."

They didn't offer anymore information, so I decided to try again. "Is everything okay? He's not hurt or something, is he?"

"Your father is fine." The same man answered. "It's your sister we're worried about."

There was only one word that popped into my head when they said that.

_Shit_.

I feigned surprise. "What happened? Is she okay?"

"Your sister is missing, Dib."

I stumbled over my own feet and escaped an embarassing and most likely painful fall as the white man on my right grabbed my arm, waiting until I was steady on my feet again and upright before letting me go.

_Now_ I had no idea what was going on.

"WHAT?" I demanded, calming my tone with shaky breaths as I stared at them. "What-? When did this-? . . . I mean, are you sure?"

"We wouldn't joke about this, sir." The light-skinned man said patiently. "Your father came home early to check on your sister, when the school called to verify she was sick today. He found your house not only absent of your sister, but not in the best of states. Some of her things were missing as well."

I nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but that would've been too obvious. Zim clearly had something to do with Gaz's disappearance. And if the two had gotten into an argument of some sort, at any period of time, I wouldn't doubt that some things had been thrown about, or at the very least broken. It made me a bit worried, however, that he'd felt the need to move her, and pack her stuff to take off.

Instead of saying all this, I replied. "What kind of stuff? Like her games or something?"

"More like the majority of her wardrobe." The man countered, forcing them to continue moving by guiding Dib with a careful hand on his shoulder.

I stumbled again. This time we did not pause and I was dragged a bit before I regained my footing, however ungracefully. My pace was erratic, as was my breathing and my thoughts. Gaz was missing. Like she'd run off. What if she was faking being sick this morning, just so she could take off? But why would she do that? And how had Zim not noticed? Was that where he was now, than? Looking for her?

Zim.

Immediately I skidded to a halt, holding my stomach with the arm that was not being dragged. "Oh, crap. I think I'm going to throw up."

A single brow raised over both of their sunglasses, thin and seeming almost drawn.

"Do you need any assistance?" One of them asked, though obviously unwillingly as I hobbled towards the bathroom, a few feet to the left.

I shook my head, and past their facade, I could've sworn I saw relief. "No, no, I'll be fine on my own."

It was true that I was starting to get nauseas. My head was spinning with too many questions and paranoid-induced scenarios, most of which left Gaz struggling to remain alive or doing something extremely dangerous. Or at the mercy of Zim, which was pretty much out of the question, but still. A lot of unbelievable things go through your head when you hear that no one knows where your little sister is, and the last time you saw her, she was sick, and unable to defend herself.

I flipped out my phone, making loud, disgusting coughing noises for effect and locking the door behind me. I checked the stalls, thankful to find no one else occupying the bathroom. The great thing about being a guy is we do our business quickly; we don't stick around to linger when were done. Which left me the entire room to myself.

I dialed quickly, knowing the number practically by heart after calling it so many times over the summer, and a few times recently.

It rang.

I coughed a few more times, making some retching noises. I thought I heard an awkward throat-clearing noise from outside, so I spat in the sink, running the water as I listened to the phone.

It was still ringing.

I scowled.

It rang.

And it rang.

And it rang.

"Come on, Zim." I hissed, making more retching noises. God damn it, where the hell was he? I hung up, dialing Gaz's phone and getting the same results. Why weren't they answering me?

I paled, a shaking coming over me as I thought of the answer.

They weren't answering because they couldn't.

I splashed some of the water on my face as I somehow managed to slip my phone back into my backpack, gripping the edges of the sink as I took deep, shuddering breaths. Now was not the time to lose it. If Gaz was in trouble, I had to save her. Even if Zim couldn't, I had to try. I turned the nozzle as the sink started to spill over, taking another breath, about to unlock the door, when I felt the vibration of my phone against my leg, where the bag was pressing against it.

I immediately dropped it, making more retching noises as I slipped it out hastily.

It was one, singular message. Short, anonymous, and to the point.

'_The area you are attempting to contact from has been labeled: Insecure._  
_Please move to a safer region before attempting to contact the following numbers again.'_

After which was my sister's number, and Zim's. Only Zim's Computer could sound that official, like this was some automatic response he'd asked it to send beforehand. Like he knew I was going to call. I breathed a deep, shuddering sigh of relief. It meant Gaz was with him, if he had control of her phone. Which meant she was safe. For now, because he was also apparently hiding her. But what had freaked them out enough to go hide at Zim's house?

I slipped my phone in my jacket pocket, making sure the bulge wasn't visible before unlocking the door and going outside to meet my escorts.

It wasn't exactly hard for me to pretend to be sick. I felt like hell after my momentary panic attack. One of the men took my bag from me courteously after I stumbled out. It was extremely polite of them, but it made me feel like a girl nonetheless. It took several more minutes to reach their slick black car, with _Membrane Labs_ neatly printed on the side doors, only visible if you were looking for it.

I was already trying to form a plan as I sat in the backseat, away from the two of them, with my head pressed against the cool glass window. I needed to get away from these men, and my dad, at some point. If Zim was paranoid enough not to trust the phone wires even in the school, I could think of few other places he'd be alright with. More than likely a public place, so it would be more difficult to tap _my_ phone, or even find it with all the cross-fires of other phone waves. So he probably expected me to go to the Internet Cafe on 7th Street, which wasn't too hard a sell, since I was a teenage kid. With homework.

Okay, so I had a destination in mind. But how was I supposed to get away from my dad and his goons when he was probably at Death Con 5? Gaz and I had hid from my dad before, when he was trying to figure out why everything besides hot-dogs tasted like ass to her, but that wasn't exactly easy. If we hadn't been sucked into another dimension, they would have found us and dragged both of us back to the labs for sure. And if my father was freaked enough, he'd want to watch me like a hawk. Which also meant I couldn't just go directly to Zim's base, as in the case I was being followed or watched, I'd lead those following right to my sister, thus defeating the point of hiding her at all.

I resisted a groan.

This sucked.

"Are you alright, Master Membrane?" (1) The white one asked me, seeming to notice the pained expression that I'd placed on my face subconsciously.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I waited a second before replying. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little indigestion. The cafeteria food can work its wonder on the bowels."

And that shut them up quickly, leaving me once again to my thoughts.

_What are you doing, Zim?_ My mind thought, glaring out at the streets, as if, if I looked hard enough, my thoughts could get to my former arch-nemesis currently holing my sister up in his base. _What do you know that I don't?_

But, obviously, I did not recieve an answer.

* * *

(1) 'Master' is a term used for anyone under the age of 18, or the Junior of their son. I felt it would be weird to have grown men refer to someone not even out of High School as 'Mister' so I used this instead. Little subtlety, but it mattered to me, at least.

Kind of a short chapter, but it adds to the suspense!

Damn, this is gonna be a long story.

I really wasn't looking forward to writing Dib's part, for some reason. I was avoiding it, which is why there's Gaz's POV in here. Another reason this is so short is because I want Dib to just be with his dad now, and not have to describe the ride. And a cut-off here without someones monologue between would be awkward, and since there's nothing left to contribute for now, I just cut it here.

Till the next chapter!


	25. The Best Kind of Theories

. . . Are obviously _**Conspiracy** _theories.

YEAAAH!

**"I was a heavy heart to carry!  
My beloved was weighed down  
My arms around his neck,  
My fingers laced to crown  
I was a heavy heart to carry!  
My feet never left the ground!  
And when he held me in his arms,  
My feet never touched the ground!"  
-Heavy in Your Arms, by Florence + the Machine**

A truly gifted singer. I highly recommend their songs, as it's easy to write to them.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 25  
"The Best Kind of Theories"**

"Son?"

I turned on my heel. Several minutes ago, we'd been admitted onto the property of my dad's labs. I had a terrible feeling in my stomach as several doctors eyed me, some muttering to each other and other simply choosing to inspect me as we passed. I'd never felt comfortable here, even when I was a kid and _didn't_ suspect my father of doing awful things to my sister's genetic code.

_Is that why Zim won't let me call him?_ I thought briefly, my eyes flicking to one of many security cameras._ Because he thinks my dad could be waiting for something like that?_

That just made me all the more sick. If Zim was hiding Gaz from my dad, something had drastically changed the situation. I had no idea where to start looking right now, though, so I was going to have to figure it out later, after I completed my first plan of getting to the Internet Cafe. If Zim didn't tell me while we talked, that is.

Suddenly my father's arms were thrown around my neck, and for the first time, I felt the weight of my father embracing me in a hug. A real, concerned, honest-to-goodness hugged. I was so stunned I just went stock still, like moving would send my spiraling out of my hallucination and back into the real world, where I'd find myself once again confined in the Crazy House for Boys, even if I was much too old for the building. Maybe they'd make an acception for me, or, rather, my dad.

But it was not a mirage, I begrudgingly admitted, as my father pulled away to place very large, gloved hands on my shoulders. It made me kind of glad that my dad didn't hug me, something I hadn't expected. Being next to him, despite the figure I'd attained that girls might called 'toned' or 'fit', I felt really gangly. I'd never realized how freaking huge my dad was.

"Uh, hey, Dad." I said, still staring. "You okay?"

"Me?" He asked, as if the question was preposterous. "Of course, son! I was worried about _you_!"

"Me?" I said, feeling kind of stupid for repeating his words. I rubbed my neck awkwardly as he removed his hands, loosely crossing his arms in a manner far too casual for my father. "Um, yeah, Dad, fine. I'm just worried about Gaz is all."

_There_, I thought, with some satisfaction. _That sounded very brotherly._

Of course, I already had a pretty good idea where Gaz was. Honestly, for all I knew, Zim could have her burrowed a thousand feet under ground in Turkey, but I doubted she'd have let him take off with her without at least giving me_ some_ notification. Gaz was just that kind of person. She could give a shit when she was next to you, but as soon as you were out of her sight, she worried about you. It'd taken me years to figure this out, but after about 16 years of being around my sister, her attitude was starting to become familiar, and dare I say it, predictable.

My father, to his credit, seemed very worried. But with his goggles and collar blocking the majority of his face, I couldn't be sure if he was just a wonderful actor or genuinely concerned about his daughter.

_Or he might just be scared about his pet-project getting hurt_, my mind growled pessimistically. It took all I had in me to pretend that I was oblivious. To not simply rear my arm back and punch my father in the jaw as hard as I possibly could. To not then jump on him, call him all sorts of foul words, and beat him to a pulp, until the guards had to drag me off of him. And then spit on him as I was towed from the room to a nice, comfy jail-cell.

I almost did it.

But somehow, I managed to make myself not.

"As am I, son, as am I." He agreed, patting me on the shoulder a few times. "Now, tell me what happened this morning."

"She was sick," I said, leaving out the weekends rather, well,_ eventful_ happenings. "She caught the flu or something. I saw her myself. She looked like hell and had a fever. I was going to stay home to help her, but-." I immediately decided against Zim's place in the story, never so much as skipping a beat in my story as I lied through my teeth. "-She insisted that she could take care of herself."

It needed something else.

I turned my glare to the floor, guilt radiating from me. "Some big brother_ I_ turned out to be. I'm supposed to be protecting her, and I leave her at home, sick and defenseless, to get kidnapped by some maniac who likes praying on little girls and taking their things."

From the corner of my eye, I saw my escorts from earlier nod at my father and leave the room. And I knew then that my story had been believed, and my dad was wholly convinced I had nothing to do with Gaz's disappearance. Which, unfortunately, left_ her_ with all the blame, but at the same time, left me to do as I pleased. And possibly help more on this side then I could being with her and Zim, in hiding.

"No need to blame yourself, son," my father assured me, placing his whole arm on my shoulder in what I imagined was a reassuring manner. Too fatherly to be real, though. But my dad was a wonderful actor. "This is no one's fault. We all know how insistent your sister can be when she wants something, as well as her independent tendencies. It couldn't be helped."

_Yeah_, my traitorous mind spat._ I'm sure you know everything about her, don't you? Down to her genetic freaking make-up code . . . That YOU built, personally, no doubt. How very fucking considerate of you . . ._

I'd never been so pissed before. At anyone. Maybe Zim, on a couple or rare occasions, but those had been _very_ bad days, and it wouldn't have been the first time he and I had used the other as a personal stress-relieving punching bag, nor would it be the last. It had just been the first time I hadn't felt elated while doing it. I'd just been way too pissed off.

"Yeah, I know." I mumbled, noticing that my backpack was gone and finding myself glad I'd slipped my phone into my pocket. "You're looking for her, right?"

"Anyplace we can think of. The police are waiting another 17 hours to start, though. They do have policies, of course, 24 hours without contact and all. After all, your sister might come back, right? Positive thinking, son, positive thinking!"

I nodded, ignoring my urges. "Yeah, right. Do you mind if I go looking for her myself, Dad? There's this one place on 7th she used to go to, to do homework and stuff. It's unlikely, but . . ." I trailed off. This was a great plan, especially for me. Gaz was normally the one who could manipulate people for a plot. Now it was my turn.

I wasn't going to act recklessly, though. Even though I had my phone on me, I wasn't going to try and use it. I wasn't stupid enough to think my father wasn't going to at least keep tabs on my phone as a precaution. I was going to, much to my shame, pick-pocket someone's phone. It wasn't too hard for me to be sneaky, after so many years of breaking into a house with security that rivaled my Dad's labs. Gaz had pointed out to me (more times than it was comfortable) that I could be a wonderful house-burgular. But I didn't have it in me to be a criminal. I didn't have the stomach for it.

This, however, would be the exception.

My father nodded. "Of course, son. I'll have a car take you there. The house is temporarily off limits, as there is an investigation going on, privately, but I'll let you know when you can return there."

I nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

"Good luck, Dib. Remember, only positive thoughts, yes?" I nodded. "Good. Run along now."

_That was easy._ I thought, watching as my escorts returned into the room, waiting patiently as my father gave them orders to take me to 7th St., and wherever else I wanted to go. _Now all I gotta worry about it preparing myself to talk to Zim._

Unfortunately, I knew, nothing could prepare me for _that_.

* * *

It took me a moment to realize that the darkness surrounding me was not the familiar color of my eyelids.

I resisted the urge to shiver, despite the blanket, which I could feel wrapped securely around my person. I cracked my eyes open, none too surprised to find my head resting against a familiar-clothed chest. I became aware I was being carried, and was a bit surprised to find how completely comfortable I was. I assumed the slight jostling of my place from the couch into his arms had woken me, as aside from that, I was perfectly content. Which was more than unnerving.

I also quickly became aware Zim was still humming what I assumed was the same tune I thought I'd heard on and off in my dreams. Which weren't really so much dreams as they were the occasional slur of colors and noise, which was always that damned humming. It kept me asleep, oddly, because noise normally wakes me up. But I guess even the best of us are susceptible to lullabies. At least, when we're sick. (1)

Zim seemed to not have noticed I was awake, or, if he had, he was just going to ignore me so that I could go back to sleep without incident. Which, admittedly, might work, since I could already feel my eyelids dropping. I nestled myself more comfortably against him, wondering where he was taking me but far more concerned with how absolutely at ease I was. I hadn't felt so relaxed in ages. My back wasn't even bothering me in this half-awake state I was in. My eyes were half-closed, but were just open enough for me to watch my surroundings through my lashes.

Gir was following, surprisingly, very quietly. He seemed to notice I was awake, however, as he was on Zim's left, and beamed at me, motioning for me to be quiet. As if _he_ was the one who was asleep and didn't want to be noticed, not me. I smiled a little, not risking a nod before relaxing my face again. He seemed content and continued to hug his animal, trailing along silently. How Zim had managed to make him so silent, I did not know, but it was quite impressive nonetheless.

Zim seemed to notice my previous shifting of burrowing myself into his shirt and readjusted me slightly, so that I could place my head completely against his chest instead of partially on his shoulder, as well. This was, to my disbelief, infinitely more comfortable. The gentle motion of him walking felt like heaven. Granted, I still felt like crap, still being sick and all, but I was wholly convinced this was as good as it could get when you were this ill.

The humming continued with pauses only coming between the melody, where appropriate. Zim's breathing between then was almost inaudible, but this close, I could just detect it through his lips. I discovered how dry my tongue was and licked the inside of my mouth, making a few noises before adjusting myself against Zim again, sighing. I was glad my eyes were mostly closed, as immediately I felt Zim's dart to my face. I was unable to resist the smirk on my face at his paranoia, though in my laziness, it came out as a soft smile. I wondered how he'd react to that; me, smiling in my sleep as I rested against him.

At the same time, I wondered why I was so alright with it.

The small faltering in his humming, created from checking on me, continued, and I was once again lulled into my state of awakened, comfortable, peace. I made sure to keep my fractional sight unnoticeable, just in case Zim checked on me again. He didn't, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. I became increasingly suspicious when we descended into his labs, but that turned to confusion as he walked past it, ignoring this far too familiar room completely. Gir, still aware of my own awareness, smiled at me again. How Zim didn't notice this, I wasn't sure, but I figured his mind was anywhere_ but_ on the malfunctioning robot accompanying us.

A door I had not seen previously opened, and I resisted snapping my eyes open to get a full view of the room. It definitely had not been here before. Which meant that this was probably the room Zim had his house build for me while we stayed here, and he was just moving me in here so I wouldn't have to sleep on the couch. It was an oddly considerate gesture, although I really hadn't minded sleeping on the couch.

I noticed the rest of my things in the corner of the new, er, _my_ room, as we passed it. Huh. So he had thought to move my stuff before moving me. That was . . . also unusually thoughtful of a move for him to do. His tune came to a mellow stop, hanging on a final note before drifting off into silence. I wondered how long he'd been humming to me. A few minutes? Hours? I had no idea. It really depended on how long I'd been asleep, and whether or not he'd been humming the whole time.

"Gir," he spoke quietly. In a careful tone I hadn't heard from him before. "Please retrieve the rest of the blankets and pillows from the couch. I believe I left the pink sheet and the white, smaller pillow folded up at the edge of it."

"_Okay!_" Gir whispered, to my ever-growing shock. He giggled a few times, waving at me conspiratorially when I assumed Zim was not looking before darting off, to do as he was told.

Zim moved to the bed, where the rest of my blankets and pillows had been arranged. It looked incredibly appealing. I heard the sound of his legs extending from his PAK, pulling aside the top two blankets before gently laying me on the bed. I whimpered at the loss of warmth, more than half-asleep now. My eyes fluttered a bit, and I heard Zim sharply inhale before I let my eyelids droop again, still making faces in my half-sleep. After a few seconds I heard him sigh, relieved, and retract his legs. He pullde the blankets back up, placing them gently on my person. Instinctively, my legs curled up around myself, and I released the shivers from the lack of his body heat and my own unsatisfactory feverish one.

I could feel him watching me, trying to make a decision. During that time, I wondered if this was actually going to work.

It wasn't that I particularly _wanted_ Zim to (literally) sleep with me. It was just that he was so damn comfortable, and his humming really was pretty soothing, to the point that I didn't want him to _not_ be there. Also, I was sick, and I was pretty sure I was a bit delusional at this point, as there was a turmoil of color slurring behind my eyelids that was making me nauseous. I couldn't escape the slightly pitiful groan that escaped me as one of my eyes twitched. The _last_ thing I wanted right now was a headache.

This, however, seemed to do it for Zim. With a sigh, and a suspicious rubbery-noise that I assumed was the removal of his boots, and a much heavier fluttering that was probably his jacket, I felt the bed jostle slightly. I was once again maneuvered into his arms, and somehow, I felt him get into a sitting position with me on his lap. I, however, was not even _nearl_y as comfortable as before and immediately began squirming. Or, squirming as much as someone not fully awake _could_ squirm.

Seeming to understand, Zim shifted me more to his side rather than cradled on his lap and I adjusted myself. Admittedly, it was a very couply position that we ended up in. My leg was hitched up to rest on his, just loose enough not to be like I was about to hug him. My other was straight out, aligning roughly next to the same leg my other was wrapped around. My head rested on the warmth radiating from his chest, as were my hands. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, resting on my forearm to keep me in position.

_This_ was comfort. Awkward as it probably looked.

I felt him turn to me slightly, and his hand ran through my hair for a second. I was momentarily bothered by the slightly intimate gesture, but was far too comfortable (and tired, for that matter) to really care. And then, his hand drifted towards my cheek, past, and came to rest at my chin, tilting it upwards, towards where I assumed his face was.

Immediately my eyes flickered open, blinking away the haze and drowsiness, or at least making an effort to. For a moment, Zim's face came into view. But it was not the expression I had been expecting.

He was glaring at me, like he suspected me of doing something. Like I'd just kicked his dog, and he'd heard it yelp, but he hadn't actually seen me _do_ anything and so now was trying to get me to confess with his death-glare. My own flickered into lazy confusion. I yawned, my mouth opening wide, and the image of a cat doing the same thing came immediately into my minds-eye.

Like I said. Delusional.

"Zim?" I muttered, through my tiredness, on my hands twitching as it refused to move enough to let me wipe the sleep from my eyes.

His expression of suspicion disappeared immediately at the thickness of my voice. I wondered briefly what it was he had suspected me of trying to do, but I didn't have the energy to try and deduce the insane-logic that was Zim's head. His hand went back to my hair, letting me rest my head against him again, since I didn't have energy to keep looking at him.

"Go back to sleep, Gaz-human." He ordered, quietly. "Zim will help you, if you wish."

I yawned again and nodded against his chest, still trying to ignore how close we were in a bed. He was just so damned _comfortable_.

The humming started up again. And so close, practically laying on him, I could feel how it sent gentle vibrations through his chest that I had failed to notice. I'd assumed it was the motion from being moved. Zim's walking. It was every bit as soothing, however, and very soon, still aware of what might've been his hands running through my hair, I began drifting off again.

All I could think about was how awkward this was going to be when I woke up.

Immediately after, as my back muscles seemed to relax for what felt like the first time in ages, I decided I really didn't care.

It was, of course, at this time, that my mind began to wander. Despite the fact I hadn't managed to get a full, decent night of sleep in the past three days, I was suddenly restless. And not because of my less-than-comfortable (mentally, because I was physically comfortable as hell right now) position I was in with Zim right now. No, my mind seemed to have drifted to a whole new topic entirely that I had forgotten. Two eerily familiar words that refused to go away: _Chemical List_.

I resisted the urge to sit up and ask Zim anything else about that conversation we'd had, before I'd cut it short, for lack of interest. A Chemical List was required for any time of medication, right? Otherwise, you had no idea what you were consuming. And consumers had the right to have that type of information displayed on the product, even if it _was_ rarely read. The point was that it was there, and accessible in size 5pt. font, right on the back of the stupid labels. It was like an ingredients list, but even the ingredients had ingredients. So why was I so intently curious about this?

I knew, but I was denying it, in favor of trying to go to sleep. But I knew I wasn't going to. Not with something like _this_ running around in my head. My mind was trying to get me to think more about the crap my father had been trying (and previously had succeeded in) to pump into my systems. Something told me that even before I had lost my memory and had reason to be suspicious, I'd taken precautions. There was that instinctive feeling that somehow, I'd figured out what was inside. And that somewhere, I had a list that could tell me more about myself. But if I had a list like that, I'd want to hide it. My first instinct was in plain sight, which was ingenious, but stupid if you didn't have some sort of excuse for it lying around in equally plain sight.

_If I had papers like that, where would I hide them? _I wondered, inhaling deeply as Zim's talons drifted through my hair a couple times. As stupid as it sounded in my situation, the instinct to shy away from people touching me was engraved in my very core. Stupid? Oh yes, incredibly, that part was undeniable. But true? Also completely undeniable. There was only so much instinct exhaustion could suppress. Still, it felt . . . not unpleasant, but odd. Unfamiliar I guess, but definitely not _bad_. I wondered if this was how cats felt the first time they were pet before getting back on my previous topic.

If I wanted to hide a list like that from my dad, I'd probably make up the excuse that it was homework or something. Granted, I wouldn't put _too_ much effort into it, but enough to make it look realistic. Like a rough-draft or something about a select few of the chemical's purposes or something. Just your average homework stuff. Nothing particularly suspicious.

I sighed again, feeling the chills start acting up again. There was only so much Zim's abnormal body heat could do, and I wasn't about to try and 'snuggle up' with him anymore than I already was, which was already pushing my boundaries as it was. Anything further was pretty much just out of the question completely. I could still feel his clawed hands (still covered by his gloves, of course) running through my hair but I was getting used to it. It was soothing, in its own unfamiliar way. I smiled at little.

_So it would be hidden somewhere in homework,_ I amended. _But more than likely at my house, buried in my old work somewhere in my room._

_Well_, I reasoned further, as I found the loophole out of thinking for the moment. _Nothing I can do about it now._

I immediately felt myself drifting off.

Clearly, there was a God.

_Unfortunately_, my mind reminded me traitorously, as a last jab before I was out. _You might just be working for him._

A remark which was totally unfair because I had no time to retort, as immediately afterwords I was asleep.

* * *

I knew she'd entered a deep sleep when she'd stopped fidgeting so much. A few short minutes later, Gir came trotting back into the room and I gestured for silence with my free hand, distangling it momentarily from her hair. He nodded vigorously, eyes flashing red a moment before climbing onto the edge of the bed and curling up, very much like an Earth-pet, and falling into his own version of sleep. Thankfully, he was silent, and I turned my attention back to Gaz.

This close, I could feel how warm she was getting through my gloves. I was tempted to remove one of the blankets, but unfamiliar with treating even common Earth-sicknesses, I didn't want to risk it. She'd mumbled something about 'her fever needing to break' earlier in her sleep, but she was so out of it I doubted even she remembered that brief conversation. If one could call a slurred mumble a conversation.

I stared up at my roof, wondering what ungodly creature had placed me in this situation. With the most dangerous creature that I had ever known hooked comfortably around my leg, half-lying on top of me in what I could only assume was blissful sleep as I stroked her hair. Granted, it sounded far more intimate than it actually was, but still. The point was there. Whatever creature had come up with the means sensible enough to land me in this position was either extremely clever, unnaturally cruel, borderline psychotic, or some odd mixture of the three. (2)

I sighed, turning my head to look at Gaz. Her face was flushed, adding natural color to her face. I smirked. It was admittedly kind of funny that her pale complexion would look normal only when she was feverishly ill. I'd had to make a note to throw that in her face at some later time, when I was positive that I had gotten all I wanted out of this existence or was in the position where I could disappear very, _very_ quickly.

So of course it was during this hell-filled, conflicted bliss that I had to get the Dib-stink's call.

"_**Incoming Transmission from: Unknown Caller.**_" My computer announced in a thankfully quiet voice.

One antenna of mine rose. Unknown caller? "Not the Dib-stink's number?"

"_**No. Unknown Caller.**_"

My eyes narrowed. I adjusted my antennae into the proper headset, flicking one to accept the call. A beep rang out, and I wasn't entirely sure what to anticipate. For all I knew, I could be accepting a call from a galactic telemarketer who had somehow dialed my number, by some unknown cause.

". . . Hello?" I saw slowly, lowering my voice out of precaution.

"_It's me._" Dib's voice said in a quiet voice. Immediately I could hear the background voices; exactly what I anticipated from his call. He was probably in the Internet Cafe I had guessed he'd end up at, which was good, since I'd taken the time to block any trace on calls on that block.

I glanced down at Gaz, careful not to raise my voice. "Of course it is. I assume you want to know what happened?"

"_Well no one else seems to be willing to tell me. I assume this call is safe?_"

I scoffed. "If it wasn't, I wouldn't have answered. Are you ready to listen? I'm only going to say this once."

"_I'm ready. Talk. What did my dad to to set you off?_"

"In short, Dib-stink, the professor- er, your father announced that he'd been working on a new project recently. Something called C2-F."

"_And you think that it has something to do with what's been happening with her?_"

"I think it _is_ her." I corrected, noting the lack of specifics used. At least he was smart enough not to speak plainly in public. "Think about it, stupid beast of meat; Gaz isn't human. She's never _been_ human. Clearly, unless there was some sort of unlikely mutation while she was a fetus, Gaz is an experiment. Your father revealed that his latest project is some base-form of Angel that he built as a prototype to serve humanity."

"_Okay, you lost me. That _definitely_ doesn't sound anything like her._"

"I have a theory about that. Her disgust with humanity drives her to fix the world around her."

"_Seriously?_"

"Well she trained you into what she considered tolerable. If it can work with the most defiant of humans, it can certainly work with the simplest."

"_I'll take that as a compliment._"

"Your choice, I suppose.

"So you're trying to say that she's -?"

"An Angel, yes. In theory. Although I've been looking up more information on what your religions base the Angel opinion on. It mostly revolves around your Catholic and Christian religions. However, I believe the professor has the upper hand when it comes to how he designed your sister's personality. None of my research has ever found a direct statement on an Angel's personality. I believe you associate them far too much with how a St. should act. As far as I've seen, Angels are supposedly born in Heaven. They have no reasons to justify being there."

"_What's your point?_"

"Well hypothetically, if we were to try to understand Membrane's thinking, Angels should therefore be the _worst_ inhabitants of Heaven, not the most, well, delightful, I suppose. They're probably the most ambitious, if anything. Gaz fits exactly that theoretical persona; ambitious, smart, manipulative-."

"_I can see why religion and science have never gotten along. The amount of controversy this theory alone would spurn is ridiculous. If this had been a couple centuries ago, I think you'd have a war on your hands._"

I resisted the urge to shrug. "This is not my problem. The important thing is, your father is coming out with his project. While he may not have revealed the actual subject yet, I believe that hiding Gaz from him is currently the most logical thing we could do in terms of safety."

"_I agree. How is she, by the way? Still sick?_"

"Considerably." I replied, glancing down at her form. Geez, Gaz really slept like a rock when she was tired. "Nothing is getting worse, mind you. She's currently asleep, but when she wakes up again, I'll have Gir grab her some sick-people things she wants."

"_If you need me to, I can grab some stuff at the store and leave it somewhere._"

"Too suspicious. It's more than likely your being followed, Dib-stink. Leave anything anywhere, and someone is going to want to know why. By the way, how did you manage to call me on an unknown number? Where is your cell phone?"

"_. . . I, er, borrowed one._" He said, suddenly uncomfortable.

My antennae twitched, resisting the urge to bend out of form. "Borrowed?" And suddenly I got it, a wicked grin flashing across my face. "Do you mean you _stole_ it?"

His embarrassed silence was all I needed to know.

I laughed, trying to keep myself quiet and my chest from moving too much. "Oh, this is _rich_. The self-produced worthless meat-hero is stealing from his own pathetic race. I can't wait to tell your sister. I'm sure she'll be proud."

"_Oh, shut up!_" He snapped. "_Do you want me to give you a list of crap to get for Gaz so she can have them when she wakes up?_"

I stifled my snickering enough to talk. "Such as?"

"_You got a pen?_"

"I've got a brain."

"_That's debatable. And so what?_"

"It's called memorization, filthy Dib-monkey. Maybe if your kind used your meaty-knowledge-sources more often there'd actually be _hope_ for you, and your father wouldn't need to design whole new species to help."

"_Cough drops_," Dib began, ignoring my insults. "_Ginger ale, saltine crackers. You should probably grab water bottles. Tylenol and Advil, if she has a headache._"

"Anything else?"

"_Nothing that really comes to mind. Soup. Jello. Just something light to eat, if she's up to it._"

"Very well. I'll have Gir get it." As I said this I kicked my free leg, knocking him off the bed to make him up, since I was otherwise detained. "Your sister is worried about you, Dib-monkey. She asked me to tell you to be careful."

"_She did?_"

"In her own way," I replied. I knew Dib understood, imagined the nod and the roll of the eyes that the Dib-stink so habitually did when it came to thoughts of his sister. "But I understand why, Dib. Membrane specifically said CF-_2_. Two, Dib. As in the second."

"_. . . You think that I might be . . .?_"

"It's a theory she came up with," I informed him. "One I'd advise you to take into serious consideration."

"_Yeah . . . um, right. I'll keep that in mind._"

"She also asked that you be removed from your father for safety. So at some point, I'm probably going to have to come get you. Have a small, inconspicuous bag waiting in case I find an opening to just grab you and run."

"_Well, I mean, I know where you are. If I find an opening, I can always just take off and run there._"

"We're not going to be staying here long, Dib-stink. That would be stupid. I'm having a base set up in a remote area that I'll be transferring your sister to. If all goes well, you'll be going with us, and I can easily hide both of you there while I function in society, appearing to have nothing to do with your disappearance. I might even get you off the planet entirely, if I decide it necessary. My base orbiting Earth does still work, after all."

"_Wow. Paranoid, much?_"

"I prefer cautious." I retorted, curtly, watching Gir try and climb back on the bed without dropping his rubber-piggy. "Either way, come here and you won't find us. Aside from Gir's passage, this base is all but on lock-down."

"_Alright. Well, you have my cell and probably have hacked my e-mail several times. If you need anything, I'm sure you can figure out how to get a hold of me._"

"Will do. And make sure not to go looking for us, Dib-stink. Whatever you do, worry about yourself. Your sister is in capable hands."

"_I know. Are you sure that you're capable of dealing with this by yourself? I mean, I know you're smart, Zim, but so much one-on-one with you and Gaz, I think that-._"

"I'll be fine, Dib-stink." I snapped, glancing down at Gaz immediately at his insinuations. If only Dib knew what position Gaz had gotten both of us into at the moment. "Like I said. Just worry about yourself and await further instructions."

And unable to deal with him anymore, I flicked my antennae out of position, thus freeing them and hanging up at the same time. I sighed, closing my eyes a moment before letting them drift back to Gaz.

It was true, what I said about the house, in a remote area. It was about as remote as you could get while staying on this planet, as I didn't want to risk taking Gaz into the atmosphere of space until I absolutely had to. In her weakened state, she could become susceptible to the side-effects humans had with long-term exposure outside of their atmosphere. True, Gaz was not human, and so I really wasn't entirely positive she'd react negatively, but I couldn't afford to take any chances. If something happened to her, the Dib-stink would never let it go, and I probably wouldn't be able to find it in me to forgive myself.

I scowled as I watched Gir dart off, after he'd been given instructions on what to get for Gaz. Things were really becoming far too dramatic for my tastes. Simplicity didn't seem to be a luxury I came into contact with very often anymore.

* * *

(1) Untrue. I know a melody that can put anyone to sleep or make them extremely anxious, depending on the pitch and tempo. I am simply that awesome.

(2) I'll take that as a compliment.

The stage has been set, but not all the secrets revealed. We know why Membrane did what he did, and what species Gaz is. However, we're not sure what she's capable of, or really what makes her different from humans. She certainly _looks_ like a human, right?

Either way, you'll have to wait. Things are about to go for precarious to bad.

SQUEAL BECAUSE GAZ IS BASICALLY CUDDLING WITH ZIM! I ORDER YOU TO SQUEAL THIS INSTANT!

At any rate, I have yet to receive **fanart**. Yeah, I've been making it for myself (which is **posted on my wall**), but come on guys! I'm waiting!

Either way, shits about to go down.

I'm aware of the **controversial** **nature** that my story's theme is beginning to head towards, with the Angels and all. I'm a Confirmed Catholic, and am aware people might get insulted by Zim's research and the scientific approach everyone has been taking to it. But really, please, keep your opinions to yourself if you're insulted. Frankly, I don't give a damn, and if you want to start a debate with me, prepare to lose. You've seen what my characters do, and that's in plain situations.

I'd advice you not to mess with their creator.

Thank you for your lack of opinion.

Until the next chapter.


	26. Run, Devil, Run

Alright, let's go.

Time for the running to start.

This is a confrontation that's been _long_ overdue.

**"I wish I'd known right from the start  
That I was dancing with the dark  
You better run, run, run, run, run-  
Run, Devil, run,  
Run, Devil, run, run  
Run, Devil, Devil run  
_Run_."  
-Run Devil Run by Ke$ha**

_**SPECIAL THANKS TO** xXIyra16Xx **FOR SENDING IN THE FANART!** IT'S ALWAYS APPRECIATED! :D_

**ALSO. SUPER IMPORTANT (two things):**

**1)** Sorry for not updating last week. My fanfiction account needed to be debugged and it wouldn't let me log in.

**2) I'm on youtube! Go look up my _ravenfollower13_ account for more info on what the account is for!**

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 26  
"Run, Devil, Run"**

I woke up to find my vision filled with cerulean.

I blinked, dully.

Somehow I'd been expecting this.

"Hey, Gir." I mumbled as my eyes cleared, revealing his entire head as he laid next to me. I was immediately aware of the lack of Zim, but I was actually pretty glad that I didn't have to deal with that awkward wake-up. "Where's Zim?"

"Outside." He replied, sitting up to look towards the roof, whispering like he was telling me a secret. "He said it was _important._"

Well. That was unexpected. I propped myself up on my elbows, eyes wide. "He left?" Gir nodded. "To go where?"

"Iono." He replied, shrugging as he laid back on the bed.

I blinked. "Wow, so we're really here alone?"

"**The master didn't believe that you'd be waking up for some time.**" The computer announced, suddenly. "**He's only been gone for about an hour. Shall I call him for you?**"

"No, that's alright. How long have I been asleep?"

"**Approximately five hours and seventeen minutes. The master was lying with you all of four hours and three minutes.**"

Lying with me. That just sounded so much worse than it was. "Oh. Okay. Hey Gir, can you hand me that suitcase over there?"

"Mkay!"

A hand extended from the roof, making Gir freeze as the bag was set on the bed.

"**It isn't smart to let Gir handle things. Even those that don't break easily.**" The house advised, boredly. "**If you need something, I was instructed to help while the master was out collecting supplies and setting up the second base.**"

I took the duffel-bag from him, my brow rising at his statement. "Second base?"

"**He can explain when he gets back.**"

"Whatever," I mumbled, rummaging through my things and starting to refold and organize my clothes. I set aside a few choice ones; a pair of black sweat pants, and a loose purple v-neck t-shirt that I knew to be more comfortable then any of my other clothes. These ones were starting to feel gross after sleeping in them for two days. "How long is he going to be gone?"

"**A few hours. Why? I was instructed to inform him if you needed him to get someth-.**"

"No. Like I said, I'm fine." I insisted, removing a black sweatshirt. "How dark is it?"

"**Not very. It's only 1:34pm. Standard-time skool isn't even out yet.**"

"Good," I replied, pulling my shirt over my head and shivering at the breeze. I wasn't wearing a bra, and I found myself extra sensitive to my surroundings. I shoved my shirt on quickly, extricating myself of my pants just as easily. "Less people to see me walking around."

"**With all due respect, you're in no condition to leave.**"

"Fair enough. But are you gonna tell on me if I do?" I asked, wiggling lazily into the sweat pants.

I could practically see the gears turning in his head. "**Mmm . . . Well, I mean, I wasn't _ordered_ to. But still, it's not a good idea. A whole private police force is out looking for you.**"

"It'll only be for a little while," I replied, holding up my arm to cough into. After such a good sleep, I was definitely feeling better. Not a hundred percent, but enough to go home, rummage through my crap to find some papers, and then come back here. Zim wouldn't even have to know that I was gone. "I'll even take Gir with me, if it makes you feel better."

"**Personally, I could care less. I just don't want to hear my Master ranting about it later if he finds out.**"

"Well then lucky for you, because he_ won't_ find out." I retorted, noticing my shoes in the corner and digging through my bag for socks. "Hand me my shoes, will you?"

The same hand extended downwards, handing me the requested items before retracting once again. "**Normally I'd advise against taking Gir, but you'll need him to contact the Master if you get into trouble. He can also prove very helpful defensively.**"

I snorted, raking my hands through my hair so that it would fit into my hood easier. If anyone glanced at me, I'd look like a jogger, just on an afternoon run. Nothing suspicious. "Seriously? Gir? You're kidding, right?"

"**Gir's Duty-Mode has proved more than sufficient on several known occasions. He likes you. He listens to you, for some reason. If you get into trouble, he'll be enough until the Master can come get you.**"

I nodded, standing up on shaky legs. "How do I get upstairs?"

"**Um, well, the elevator.**"

I felt like hitting myself. "Right. Come on, Gir. Get your disguise on, we're going for a walk."

He threw his hands up in the air triumphantly. "Walkies!"

"Yup," I muttered, walking unsteadily out of the room. I was getting better though, despite the shakiness. And I needed to get used to this if I was going to pretend to be out jogging. Joggers didn't stride around looking like newborn deer. "Let's just do this before Zim gets back. Computer, warn me if Zim starts heading home early."

"**Whatever.**"

"Come on, Gir!" I shouted, leaning against the side of the elevator, waiting impatiently for him to get him. "We don't have time for you to dawdle!"

"WALKIE!" He screeched, launching himself inside and hitting the back of the elevator with an unnerving 'clang'.

He was lucky he'd missed me, or he wouldn't have been able to get back up the way he did, half-inside his doggie suit. I hit the base-floor button, watching as he properly dressed himself, looking like a dog when he was done. Or, well, a green dog. A severely deformed, two-leg walking green dog. He handed me his leash, which I knelt down to attach to his collar. He beamed at me when I stood back up, and I rolled my eyes and ignored him, striding out of the elevator impatiently. Well, at least by having Gir around I was getting irritated. I always felt stronger when I was irritated.

I practically dragged Gir outside, shutting the door behind me. I heard the house locking up again behind me, and was thankful that it didn't seem to care about anything unless it was a direct order. I then proceeded to become thankful that Zim hadn't thought to directly order me to stay in the house. After all, as far as he knew, being sick meant being incapable of doing anything. Which, under normal circumstances, was true, but this was far too important for me to let something as simple as not feeling well stand in my way. Besides, I had overprotective Gir with me. And with any luck, I'd be in and out before anyone noticed anything.

Jogging was still a bitch. I wasn't_ genuinely_ jogging of course, but pretending to be jogging while sick was just as bad. Gir ran along beside me obediently, on four legs, seeming cooperative for once. That or he was just happy to be outside and allowed to run. Zim probably didn't take him out very much anymore. Not since his schemes had slowed down. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time Gir had really been out of the house at all.

It took around ten minutes, even half-jogging, but nobody seemed to even notice me. Or Gir, for that matter. By the time I got there, I was exhausted, and my legs were begging for me to stop. I paused in front of the house next-door, letting my hands go to my knees to support me. I appeared to be resting to anyone passing by, but I was actually staking out the place while Gir ran around my feet, making various animal noises. Still, no one noticed. And within a few seconds, I was alone on the street again.

I darted into the house, using the spare key under the mat and getting inside within ten seconds. I replaced it and locked the door behind me, refusing to pause as I headed up the stairs. My house felt unnaturally eery, and for a terrifying moment I wondered if I was alone.

Something creaked upstairs.

I resisted the urge to swear, praying they hadn't heard me. Praying that it was Dib. I'd never been a very religious person, but I figured as a biological Angel, maybe God would place my prayers in the 'high-priority' box. Dib could definitely be home. But then again, so could my dad. His recent, unpredictable schedule made it difficult to make a definite guess. More likely it was Dib. But the possibility it was my father scared the hell out of me.

". . . Hello?" The hesitant shout came from upstairs.

I sighed in relief. It was just Dib. But that didn't mean that my dad wasn't home too. I waited, listening for the familiar sound of my dad coming upstairs. I turned to motion silence to Gir, and was surprised to see that his eyes were already glowing a vibrant red, and he seemed incredibly tense. Huh. Maybe Zim should listen to his computer more often.

"Hel_lo_?" Dib shouted again, and I could hear him coming down the stairs.

I looked to Gir again, who seemed to be looking at me for instructions. I clasped my hand over my mouth and then pointed towards where Dib was coming, clearly attempting to be quiet. I could see the shadow of a bat in his hands and rolled my eyes. Gir nodded and lunged. There was a crash, and Dib came rolling down the stairs before Gir pinned him to the wall, robotic hand clasped firmly over his mouth.

"_MMPH!_" He shouted, scream muffled by Gir. He tried struggling but somehow, in his panicked state, he couldn't extricate himself from the robot. I noticed that his glasses had fallen away from him and picked them up, slipping his glasses back on.

"_Shut up, Dib!_" I hissed, kneeling next to him. "_It's just me and Gir!_"

His eyes came back into focus, and seeing both of us, he visibly relaxed. And then he looked confused.

"_Is anyone else home?_" I whispered, making no move to tell Gir to let go. He seemed content with pinning Dib for as long as I wanted him to. He shook his head no. I nodded. "_Stay quiet anyways. And stay here. Make sure he does, okay, Gir?_"

No need to deal with the questions. I was sticking with the plan. Get in, get out. That was it.

Explanations were _not_ included within the plan.

Dib struggled, seeming surprised I wasn't letting him go, but somehow Gir kept him subdued. I made my way quickly up the stairs, wasting no time and entering my room. I scowled at the disheveled state Zim had left it in. Everyone had probably thought I'd been in some sort of struggle up here. Oh well. If everyone thought I'd been kidnapped, then no one would realize I'd caught on yet about my _true_ heritage. With any luck, everyone would make it out with their hands clean, and I'd just look like a runaway. Maybe Dib could get out, too.

"Homework, homework, homework," I muttered, digging around the room, careful no to disturb anything too much and replacing what was unavoidable when I finished coming across it. Eventually I wandered over to my desk, rifling through the drawers.

A lightbulb went off as I paused on a folder, a brief memory flashing in my head. But this wasn't one of my flashbacks, no, I_ remembered_ this. Because it had only happened a few weeks ago.(1)

I immediately tore open the folder, my nimble hands making quick work of spreading the papers out in front of me like cards. I scanned over them quickly. I was right; these were exactly what I'd seen earlier. And I'd done just what I would do now; disguised them as homework. I folded them in half twice, stuffing the three or four papers in my pocket and zipping it up before opening the door.

I trotted easily down the stairs, soundlessly, adjusting my papers so that they weren't visible in my pocket when I started running again. There wasn't a lot I could do about the papers pressing against the fabric, but I could at least make it look like part of the seam.

"_Okay, Gir,_" I whispered. "_Get off of him. Time to . . . go? Gir?"_

But of course neither my brother nor Gir were in sight. I swore under my breath, eyes instinctively darting around the room for some type of weapon as I looked for the both of them. My eyes shifted as something creaked behind me, and I turned to see the door to my father's downstairs lab opened just a sliver, and Gir's foot disappear behind it. I thought I heard him humming, too.

I rolled my eyes. Seriously, Gir? Now was _not_ the time to be exploring my house!

"_Gir_!" I snapped, still whispering. "_Where the hell are you going?_"

There was a giggle, and he was silent again.

I sighed, making my way down the stairs after him. What my brother was doing, I had no idea. For all I knew, Dib had offered him something to get off of him, and whatever it was was in the lab. Dib sometimes used my dad's stuff, when he needed to. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew of something down here that he could bribe Gir with.

I reached the edge, eyes narrowing at the lack of light in the room. Something wasn't right.

I realized this all too late as I heard the automatic lock click upstairs.

"Hello, Gaz."

Oh, shit.

Melodramatically, the lights clicked on, revealing my father standing at attention in the center of the room. In his arms were a deactivated Gir, and a groan against the wall next to me made me risk taking my eyes of my dad to see Dib, slumped against the wall on the floor, looking like he was just waking up. I couldn't see any visible wounds, but that was hardly important right now. Alarmed, but refusing to show it, I turned to glare at my dad.

"What did you do to him?" I demanded, referring to both Dib and Gir.

My father held up an empty needle. "Just a small muscle relaxant to keep him still. As soon as you went upstairs, I deactivated your little toy and gave Dib this. We've been waiting very patiently for you, daughter. It's rude to keep people waiting, you know."

"I'm not your daughter." I spat, irritated. So he'd been waiting for me. And I'd walked into a trap. No doubt he figured I'd come back for Dib and had hidden out here, like a hunter waiting for its prey. The bastard. "And give me back Gir! He didn't do anything to you! He's not even mine!"

"Oh?" His brow rose. "Then who, may I ask, does he belong to?"

I glared harder and said nothing. I wasn't about to be tricked.

"I see. We are not on friendly terms anymore, then." He sighed and tossed Gir to my feet, where I immediately knelt and scooped him into my arms. I felt kind of bad that I was paying Gir more attention than Dib, but right now, we needed help. And using Gir's transmission was the only way we were going to get it. "There you are, you may have him back. Although, he won't be turning on anytime soon."

"Bastard." I hissed, opening his back to see that indeed, he'd placed some weird bug on a wire. Just by looking at it I knew I'd need tweezers or something to get it off without damaging Gir. But I didn't need him on, I just needed to send out the distress signal. I masked my flick of the button with a struggle to try and get the thing off anyways, grunting a few times when I couldn't rip it off. "Damn it!"

Membrane shrugged. "I warned you."

I shot him a dark look. "You're an asshole, you know that? I wish you were dead!"

"If I were dead, you would be, too." Membrane replied, evenly. "And that's no way to talk to your father."

"You were _never_ my father." I growled, knowing I'd been denying this for a while. "You were just my creator."

"So you've figured _all_ of it out, then? Impressive. I was under the assumption you only suspected something amiss and ran to get more information at my labs. I suppose congradulations are in order for breaking in without anyone noticing."

If that's how he thought I knew, fine. Best to leave Zim out of this. My anger never wavered anyways. "Guess you made me _too_ well."

Cliche? Incredibly. True? Far more than I wanted to believe.

"Perhaps. But you're simply _glitching_, as the technical term might be. It's nothing a bit of performance enhancement cannot fix."

"You're kidding me, right?" I demanded, jumping to my feet as he took a step towards me. He stopped, but already, despite the large space between us, I felt threatened. "I'm not doing any of your stupid tests! I'm not going anywhere with you! Now fix Dib!"

The professor waved his hand nonchalantly. "He'll be fine within the hour. However, the three of us need to talk."

"_Talking_ isn't exactly what I had in mind," I hissed, feeling my hands curl into fists.

Membrane scoffed. "Your violent instincts are too high. That, too, must be taken care of. But wouldn't you like to know what you were built for, Gaz? What you're capable of? Surely, despite your nearly incomparable logic, you still have questions for me."

I hesitated. Stall till Zim gets here, that's all I had to do, just stall. "I already know. You built me to fix this society. Kind of a stupid move to announce it on the news when I was sick at home."

"I didn't anticipate you staying home from school." He admitted. "If you'll notice, your school normally holds assemblies so you can watch my press conferences. However, if you had attended today like you were supposed to, you would have seen no assembly of the sort. And it was not to be repeated; this was a singular conference. You and your brother never would have known."

"Great, poor you." I said, rolling my eyes. "Your master plan was ruined, big deal. That doesn't change the fact I know _everything_. And I'll ruin you if it's the last thing I have to do."

"Why do you resent me?" He demanded. "I made you superior to your race. I made you powerful. You should be greatful."

"That's not in my nature," I spat.

He shook his head, as if pitying me. "You think you know everything, Gazlene, but you do not. You know nothing, and so can understand _nothing_."

"What am I missing?" I shouted, dropping Gir as I slammed my hand against the wall in frustration. "You created a new species, probably to impress your stupid colleagues, and made me believe that you loved me. That Dib and I were your 'beloved kids', and that you wanted to show us off everywhere. But all you wanted was to throw it in their faces how much your projects were succeeding! I _trusted_ you,_ we_ trusted you!"

He held up a hand. "There's need for dramatics. Stop yelling at me."

I could've killed him. The only reason I didn't start screaming again was because I was so blinded with rage, I was beyond forming sentences. And all the while, I was hyper aware of the inconvenient pain in my back flaring up again. Of course. _Perfect_ timing.

"Thank you." He said, as if I'd intentionally complied with his request. "As I said, you don't understand. You and Dib are _not_ perfect. Far from it, really, but I applaud you for figuring that out as well. Dib was supposed to be an exact replica of myself. As you can see by his lack of scientific curiosity, I failed when it came to personalities. However his likeness to me is remarkable, in spirit. You, too, while self-righteous, determined, and completely in control of your surroundings, misuse your abilities. I left you alone far too much."

Like I needed to be trained! "Well, that's what you get when you forget how to parent and leave your kids to fend for themselves 24/7."

"Actually," He said, seeming to have piqued his own interest. "That, too, was an accident. While you and Dib were supposed to spend plenty of time together, you were never supposed to believe you were brother and sister. You made the assumption you were biological siblings yourself, and despite my efforts, I could find no way to correct your mistake, and therefore mine."

My eyes narrowed. This had thrown me. "What are you talking about?"

"I designed you and Dib to be . . . how should I put this . . .? I suppose _compatible_ would be the word. You were designed to accept only the other when it came to, eh, _physical_ _stimuli_."

I stared. Shocked wasn't in my vocabulary at the moment. Horrified was somewhere in the midst, but not quite what I was feeling. He wasn't _seriously _implying what I thought he was, right? I was just reading far too into this, right?

"Are you saying . . ." I couldn't finish it. I felt like I was going to vomit.

"Yes," My father replied. "I designed you and Dib to be physically compatible. I planned for you two to accept one another as a mate."

That did it. I fell to my knees and dry-heaved, feeling like I was having a heart attack.

This was . . ._ beyond_ sick! My_ father_ had designed his _children_ to be_ attracted _to one another so that we could _screw_ and he could have more mutant-baby-children! Was he _serious_? That was just-! I couldn't even finish my sentences, my head was spinning so fast. I was hyperventalating. This was too much. I couldn't DEAL with this!

"You . . . sick . . . fuck!"

My head snapped up, turning to Dib, who was struggling to compose himself. He looked, in all fairness, like someone who'd had a stroke on both-sides. It was gross to look at him, part of the reason I hadn't tended to him right after I set off Gir's distress signal. I could only hoped that worked, now that I thought about it. Because, if there was no power, how was I supposed to know if he could send transmissions like that?

My father's brow rose. "That was unnecessary."

"It was entirely justified!" I retorted at once, speaking for both of us now that I knew Dib was listening for sure. "You can't just tell us shit like that and expect us to be okay with it! You just told us you intended for us to be incestuous after you left us alone for long enough! What the hell is _wrong_ with you?"

"You are _not_. Siblings." My father repated, apparently losing his patients. "Were you not listening to me just then? Dib could probably technically be considered my son, since he shares almost the exact same genetic make-up as me, but Gaz, you were built from scrap. Nothing about you two is the same. We could fix these social barriers you two have, if you'd cooperate-."

"_**I'M NOT HAVING SEX WITH MY SISTER!**_" Dib shrieked, his face a deep burgundy that I did not suspect was embarrasment. He thrashed around limbs that would not respond, face getting redder the more he fought against himself.

"Dib," I snapped. "Stop it! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"_FUCK_ you!" He shouted at Membrane, ignoring me. I stared at him in surprise. He rarely ever sweared, let alone at Membrane. It was entirely justified, of course, but still. That was going to take some getting used to. "I hope you and your stupid science rot in Hell! I hope your experiments all blow up in your face and you _burn_ to death, screaming in agony as some flesh-eating drug eats you alive!"

"Your tempers are getting the best of you." The professor stated, plainly. "I'll only ask you one more time; please control yourselves."

I was on the edge of killing someone. Namely Membrane. Looking at Dib, seeing him writhe because of something Membrane had done- maybe my dad had gotten something right with us. We were close. But we could never be close like _he_ wanted us to be. Not even if he chained us to chairs and threatened our lives. Dib had too many morals to ever think about just forgetting our sibling bond and running with- ugh, I couldn't even think about it. It made me physically sick, all the images that I'm sure my father had thought many times about, hoping for, praying for, if he believed in a God. I was positive no God had created this severely twisted man in front of us. No one had even wanted to grace him with kids, so he'd had to make them himself. And now he was trying to coerce them to have sex with each other.

"You can't even have kids anyways." He said suddenly, breaking my thoughts, looking increasingly frustrated. "Neither of you can. Oh, well, Dib can, if he was so inclined, but Gaz," he looked at me, turning his attention from Dib. "Some unexpected mutation happened with you in your final stages of turning into a fetus. You can't concieve on your own, at least, not naturally. Even if I _had_ succeeded with you and your brother's relationship, we would've had to use your egg and his sperm and put them together manually."

"Fertilization." Dib said, as if contemplating the science of it.

I had once again been thrown. Not outwardly, as I was still pissed, but some natural base instinct inside of me had stilled. I hated kids. I'd never wanted to be a mother. But . . . that was_ my_ choice. I should've had the option to refuse to have a baby. Now it had been taken from me.

And amazingly, that's what did it. Before I could control myself, that motherly instinct inside that had never even been acknowledged, the kind that lifted cars off of their babies and whatnot, just flicked me over the edge with a final nudge, and I was charging at the Professor without any warning whatsoever. Even to myself, actually. I didn't even realize I was running at him until I suddenly found myself face to face with him, my hand shooting at his face with a speed and precision that even alarmed me, subconsciously. Of course, I was too mad to even ponder that thought at the moment. It was only later that I realized how unnatural that my attack was, human-wise. I should've known better. I should've controlled myself.

Unfortunately, this was revealed to me all too late.

My father's palm flipped up at the last second, in a scrambled haste. Apparently even the great Professor Membrane hadn't a mind to anticipate my abrupt attacks. But he managed to catch me just before my fist was introduced to his face, and as my hand collided with his glove, a crack rang out in the air. I couldn't contain the vicious grin as I realized that was no doubt I'd broken something. And by the pained expression on his face, I guessed it was his wrist. My triumph was short lived though, as my smile evaporated when a strange vibration started from his palm and shook its way onto me. I once again figured out what he was doing a split second too late, and didn't have time to pull back before a shock ran its course through my body.

I refused to scream, but the gasp of pain was unrestrainable. It only lasted for a few seconds, and then I'd collapsed to my knees, shaking all over. I felt like I was convulsing from how hard I was shivering, and Dib was screaming so many curse words and foul phrases that I could barely think straight with his voice ringing in my ears. I felt like I know had an accurate estimate of how people who had been tazered felt. And I can assure you, it wasn't pleasant. I felt like peeing myself but somehow managed to contract my muscles enough not to.

This was bad. This was very bad.

_Damnit, Zim, where are you when I need you?_

To my eternal chagrin, I cried out as Membrane harshly managed to pull my arm behind my back, clamping what felt like handcuffs on my wrist. The only reason I was making any noise at all was because of how absolutely excruciatingly_ painful_ everything felt to touch. And there weren't any words unseemly enough to describe how my back was currently feeling. I managed to control enough muscles to pull on the handcuffs, if only slightly, only to find I didn't have a lot of room to do so. There was maybe an inch separating one from the other before I felt the snap of the chains refusing to move anymore. Well shit. If I got Dib killed, I didn't think I could ever forgive myself, and vise versa. _Damn _Membrane!

"There." He huffed, indignantly, after standing up again. "You won't be getting anywhere with those on."

I did the only thing I could think to do; I threw back my head and screamed my frustration. And much to my shock, the noise rang out high and clear, almost like a banshee. I mean, sure, Hell has nothing on a woman scorned, but this was kind of ridiculous. I could've sworn I saw some of the glass starting to crack. Despite being so far from me, Dib looked physically pained, but Membrane was practically writhing in agony. I ran out of breath or I would've continued, my chest wracking with coughs. That scream _hurt_. More than hurt, it almost burned. Like I'd just spat out any oxygen I'd had, and now I was paying for it.

"Gaz!" Dib shouted, still look pained as he began struggling again. "Are you okay?"

"She's fine," Membrane interrupted for me. "That's perfectly natural for her to do."

Threw my coughs, I shot him the most wicked look I could manage. He glared back at me and I turned away, inhaling deep, shuddery breaths. I tried to swallow and found, quite uncomfortable, that it was slightly difficult. My eyes widened as I tasted bile in my mouth, knowing what was about to come next. I'd been jogging, I'd been electrocuted, and I was _still sick_. I should've expected this.

Well. I was glad I was doing it in his nice little lab.

Tears sprang in my eyes as I vomited all over the floor, blurring my vision. Somehow I'd managed to bend over and avoid getting any of it on me, but the fact was that I was throwing up. And it burned. As if I wasn't uncomfortable or deprived of my oxygen enough. I could feel whatever it was passing through me, every inch making its way from my stomach to my throat and out my mouth with a simple contraction of muscles that took about two seconds. It was awful. At least Dib had stopped shouting though. I guess even _he_ was too disgusted to be concerned. I didn't blame him; this stuff smelled like ass.

I blinked my tears from my eyes when I was done, unable to use my restrained hands. I shuddered again, swiping my tongue through my mouth and spitting without any regard to my surroundings. I cursed immediately afterwords, regretting not having aimed at Membrane.

"Gaz . . . _What the . . ._" Dib murmured, catching my attention. My eyes flicked to his wide ones, surprisingly devoid of disgust. But he wasn't even looking at me. He was looking at . . . ew, that was gross, was he looking at my _vomit_? My own gaze flicked down, and I understood why.

_'What the hell?'_ didn't even begin to cover it. In fact, it wasn't even appropriate for what was quite literally beginning to hover in front of my face.

The truly foul thing was that I was absolutely positive that this was what had just come out of me. Mainly because of the truly abhorrent smell that radiated in the air around it. The fact that this floating, misty, admittedly kind of pretty thing drifting around the air in front of my face had just been spewed my intestines was both disturbing and a little cool. How had that even _happened_? Vomit was liquid, sometimes solids, but it definitely wasn't gaseous. I think my body was getting it's states of matter mixed up here . . .

And despite this initial shock of having my vomit get confused on me, I was increasingly aware of how strange I felt. Empty, but in a good way. Like after you threw up when you had a stomach flu; that the parasite was out. And better yet, my back wasn't hurting. Or, well, and icy chill was ripping up my back. Like someone was applying some sort of Icy-Hot to my wound and now it was experiencing the cold part. It was far more pleasant than the previous burning sensation.

. . . What had I _done_?

"You . . . coughed it up." Membrane said, seeming at a loss for words. I turned my head towards him, and watched as his eyes widened behind his goggles and he gasped, inhaling deeply and slowly and, oddly enough, holding his breath, staring at the gas.

And I knew exactly why.

I scrambled hastily and jerked my knees up to my chest, covering my nose and mouth with my knees and ducking my head into them, inhaling slowly. The mist wasn't vomit, it was a portion of whatever Membrane had used to create me. To make me not human, somehow. Or, at least, that's what I guessed. That toxic odor surrounding the thing gave me the feeling that this was the reason I was constantly in pain. And I had coughed it up.

"Breathe it back in!" Membrane snapped, risking the exposure only a moment before ducking down again, covering his hand and speaking quietly, like it could hear us, as the silvery substance flitted in a circle around itself. It made me wonder what current was making it move. "You're the only one it won't hurt."

I glared at him, refusing to say anything for fear of inhaling . . . whatever that was. My gaze flicked to Dib, who also seemed to be holding his breath and waiting for something to happen.

I watched as, in a very jellyfish-like movement, the mist made its way behind me, towards where my back was. I inched away from it, but that only seemed to encourage it more, as the wind currents jerked it in my direction far quicker than it had previously moved. It truly acted like some sort of thick, slightly translucent smoke that had gotten loose in the air. I cringed as it flitted against my back and squirmed when it began to seep into my clothes.

I felt like I was choking on Novocaine. An odd, definitely unpleasant feeling. It was as if you were aware of the fact you couldn't breathe, but at the same time, your muscles wouldn't respond to clear yourself of the obstruction. It was awful. Now I knew how Dib felt, where your body wouldn't respond to your demands and all you could do was sit there and hope that it would be over soon. My mouth was open in a silent scream, one that I could feel slowly crawling up my throat.

Dib looked like he was in pain, but I had a feeling it was more mental than physical. "Gaz-!"

The sound of something pounding on the door upstairs interrupted his cry. It made the lab shudder, and I nearly fell on my side at my lack of balance. This was awful. I felt like dying. This was far worse than anything I had been through yet, and considering I'd almost been burned to death and been half drowned, that was saying something. I couldn't make myself pay attention to my surroundings anymore. The mist was now invading my head, and everything was getting increasingly foggy. Briefly, I became disgusted again at the idea something that I'd vomited was now making it's way back inside of me, but I couldn't find enough focus to really feel anything.

Another slam temporarily pulled my from my vision, and I thought I heard shouting. Membrane, to my right, seemed to move towards me, but Dib began making his way up the wall into a standing position, or so I thought. With everything swinging in and out of focus, it was kind of hard to tell whether he was still on the ground or whether he was actually on his feet. Either way, a few seconds later, a heavy explosion rocked the floor and I fell onto my side, just able to use my elbow to lighten the impact before slumping against the ground entirely, eyes half-open in a daze. It wasn't like I could see anything anyways. My hair had fallen over my eyes like a curtain, and nothing but the floor was visible through t sliver.

Roughly, I felt a rather large hand try to grip my shoulder before disappearing, tugging barely as it jerked (or was pulled) away from me. A heavy clang of something slamming against metal filled the air, and a brief flash of what suspiciously (and quite impossibly) looked like lightning filled the room a moment. I still couldn't find myself to move or focus very much. My back felt odd, tingly almost. Not in pain, but almost like I couldn't feel it anymore. There was _something_ there, though, I knew_ that_. But it was almost as if the gas was changing my sensory nerves. I was feeling _more_ than I should, hyper-aware that there was something crawling across my back. I felt like laughing, as the only thing I could compare it too was someone peeing on me.

There was muttering, and my eyes closed in exhaustion. I was receding into my head, surrendering to my senses, but I was still aware of what my physical being was feeling. Someone was rolling me on my back, into someone's arms, and shaking me. I didn't like it. Someone was pleading me, begging me to wake up, and I couldn't tell if it was Zim or Dib. I felt really cold. Unimaginably cold. Freezing. I managed to roll my head to the side, letting my chin fall against my shoulder, but that was about as much resistance as I could mange. I felt like someone was blowing up a balloon in my back, inflating something.

And then I felt my skin tear apart, and something exploded in it, sending my nerves spiraling and drowning my consciousness again as my body and brain tried to make sense of what was going on.

There were two cries of alarm that managed to pierce through the fog, and I felt like my back was bubbling. It tingled like crazy, and everything was pins and needles. I felt my chest expanding and contracting and something of mine was against the floor, but it wasn't my back. I don't know, maybe it was my arm or something. Really, anyone's guess was as good at mine.

"_Gaz,_" a dominant voice rang out, gasping. Of course, I couldn't respond. I felt like something was touching me, but _not_ touching me. There was just . . . too much confusion going on. I wanted all of this to stop. I wanted to wake up.

_Please stop._ I pleaded, silently, unable to do anything else. _Please just stop_.

And then, mercifully, I blacked out.

* * *

(1) CHAPTER TWO, BITCHES!

OH.

MY.

FUCKING.

GOD.

YESSSS! THIS is the sick shit I've been wanting to come out for, like, EVER! Since the very first time Membrane showed up, I've been giggling to myself about what a twisted little asshole he was. Cause, I mean, come on guys, if you think about it, this isn't too big of a stretch. Membrane was never around to really raise his kids, but he always managed to find events to show them off to, like with PEG and Gaz being placed on display during the Pig-Curse dilemma that I keep finding reasons to mention. I feel like Membrane wouldn't have gotten so freaked out over something like that unless he really had something to lose if Gaz got really hurt. Not to mention the ridiculous amount of security it took to supposedly 'keep people out' instead of 'keep her in a sterile place where she couldn't get any worse'.

Yes, so, there you go. You'll have to see what outwardly happened with Gaz in the next chapter, but shit has gone down, and it's time to freak out.

THIS CHAPTER IS SO _**LONG**_! Seriously, this took hella days. 7,000+ words, which is 3,000 more than my usual limit.

Till the next chapter!


	27. Hide

Oh my gosh, the angst, you guys! Just play this song and hear the angst of being torn from your home and finding out your 'loving parent' was no more than a scientist bent on playing God and using you for his own personal vendetta. Now run.

**"Lay me down  
Let the only sound  
Be the overflow  
Pockets full of stones . . ."  
-What the Water Gave me by Florence and the Machine**

That song is what I used for Gaz's nightmare. Fair warning you guys, stuff gets kind of sad in this chapter because of her. Character development. If you didn't like Membrane before and thought it wouldn't matter to Gaz in some way, you're going to be proved wrong now.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 27**

**"Hide"**

I couldn't breathe.

All I knew was that I couldn't breathe, because whatever was making its way back into Gaz could kill the rest of us. I was watching her face contort in agony and feeling it so intently that I barely noticed when Zim came down the stairs. If it wasn't for him slamming my dad-_Membrane_ up into his desk and the minor scuffle between the two, I doubt I even would have registered his _extremely_ welcome (for once) presence.

I did in fact watch Zim attempt to initially kill my former father. And I couldn't make myself really form an opinion on it. Membrane somehow freed his arm after being pinned against the lab table, trying to shock Zim with his glove like he did Gaz. She had fallen onto her side by now, and she wasn't moving beside the occasional shudder. I couldn't even tell if she was _breathing_. Zim seemed to snap out of the intitial blind rage and settled for ripping off his glove with a PAK-leg, crushing it in his hand and revealing the broken wrist underneath. I felt sick. Wrists shouldn't bend that way. A moment later with a solid punch to the head, Membrane was out, and Zim was looking at me.

"What happened?" He demanded. His eyes narrowed. "Why aren't you up?"

I shook my head, struggling agian. "He gave me some type of muscle relaxant. I can't _move_."

Zim's eyes narrowed as he picked up Gir from the floor, shoving his PAK leg inside with a precise jab befor removing it, some tiny metal piece coming out with it and sparking on the edge. Immediately, Gir's eyes began to flick back on, and he was dropped to the floor once again before Zim came over to me.

"Try not to move," he mumbled, removing a syringe from his PAK. I flinched, preparing myself not to move, which wasn't that hard. He shot something into my neck and the rush of movement came back to me at a disconcerting rate. "There. Move slow. The anti-body was a prototype to flush out your sister's system a while ago. It was a stupid idea, but I kept it on me just in case. Either way, it's human-based design. It should help."

"Thanks," I replied, rubbing at where I'd been stung.

Zim just nodded, darting over to my sister and turning her on her back. He propped her up, keeping her head in the crook of his elbow to try and examine her face. She was unconscious, and breathing, but the disconcerting thing was how _loud_ it was. It was more wheezing then breathing.

"Gaz, you've gotta be okay!" I pleaded, crawling over to her. "_Please!_"

Her head rolled to the side, limply, and that was about all we got. And I wasn't even sure if that was her, or just gravity.

"She's cold," Zim announced. "We need to get her medical attention _now_. I'll have to use your father's labs to substain her until we can get to the new base. Go upstairs and pack your things. We leave in fifteen minutes, max, so hurry."

I nodded and ran, more awkardly than should have been possible. So much for taking things _slow_.

_Just be okay, Gaz._ I pleaded in my head._ Just please be okay._

* * *

I may have seemed completely in control outwardly, but I was far beyond panicking on the inside. I was positively livid that my computer had just let Gaz, sick, injured, and in disrepair, just waltz out of the house without so much as a notification. If it hadn't been for Gir, I wouldn't have even known what state Gaz was in right now. I would've thought she'd been sleeping, not dying on the floor of her father's labs.

"Not dying," I hissed to myself, propping her up on a nearby table. "Just unconscious."

A great shudder rocked her body, seeming to originate from her back. I'd barely set her down on the table when, much to my amazement and shock, _things_ flew out, ripping the back of her clothes in half with a very impactful force of explosion. It sent the whole back of her shirt shooting in bits and pieces around the lab, a few hitting me. And they _hurt_.

I suppose they were supposed to be wings of some sort. But they were far from the light, feathery images I'd seen of Angels in my research. They were not large, but not small, either. If I had to estimate a size, I'd have to say that it was twice the size of her back, taking her petite frame into account. I was pretty sure they were supposed to be white and covered in some sort of plummage. Instead, they were gross, fleshy things, with fuzz attached raggedly in some places. I stared in horror as that grayish, dirty-looking fuzz seemed to grow like algae, spreading across the pink, raw flesh at a rapid rate. I was faced with the horrific fact that there was nothing that I could do but watch this quite literally unfold before me.

Gaz groaned, but some of the color returned to her cheeks. As the last of the fuzz appeared, coating these disturbing looking things completely in the fur. I was vaguely reminded of a documentary about newborn penguins Gir had once forced me to watch, but I shook the thought off, trying to figure out how exactly to move Gaz with those . . . _things_ on her back. (1)

However, I lucked out. A few moments later, they wilted, like old rose petals, and became extremely delicate looking. I wondered what Membrane would have given to have seen that as I hooked one arm under her legs and pressed her wings against her back, seeing that they did indeed seem to be about the right size as her back, when folded in half. Her scars were also gone, or, well, no longer visible. I had a feeling these things had come from those very scars, but with any luck, hopefully Gaz's back would stop hurting.

_"Don't worry, Gaz," _I murmured to myself as I walked briskly outside, towards where my ship was parked. "_You're going to be okay. I promise._"

Of course, I got no response. But the point was that at least _I_ felt a little better.

By the time I reached the Cruiser out back, I had mostly composed myself, and Gaz of course was still unconscious. But her wheezing breaths had evened out to a comfortable rate and where becoming slowly more regular. Some of the warmth was coming back to her, but I wasn't sure if that was because I'd wrapped my coat around her or simply because her body was just regulating after so much trauma. She was, after all, still sick. But now I couldn't be sure if that was simply from the transformation or from her human side. I nearly groaned at that thought. As if Gaz needed another way to be even _more_ complex of a character. (2)

From up above me, presumably where the Dib-stink's room was, Gir shot out of the closed window with a high-pitched scream of triumph, two large suitcases in hand. He cartwheeled and just rolled on the grass until he ran into the Cruiser with a metallic thud, flopping onto his back. One of my antennae roes as I watched him simply jump back to his feet and walk calmly to the back of the ship to store the items. Gir really was too much of an enigma to deal with sometimes.

A few minutes later, Dib came downstairs, one more duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked visibly confused.

"Any particular reason Gir decided to jump out a closed window?" I called to him, patiently.

Dib's eyes flicked from Gir, who was now sitting cheerfully in the back seat, to me. "I was hoping you could tell me."

I simply shrugged. "I suppose that is just his nature. Get in, Dib-stink. We don't have time for you to be dawdling around. Some form of your father's security could already be on the way to retrieve you and your sister."

He ran the last few steps and jumped easily into the ship, duffel-bag now on his lap. I closed the roof of the ship and cloaked it immediately afterwords, starting up the car. It would take about a minute.

"Put the bag on the floor and take your sister," I ordered, curling her in my arms, clipping pieces of my jacket together so it wouldn't fall of her slim figure, getting ready to hand her over to Dib as my ship began to hum to life. "I need my hands to steer my ship."

Dib immediately unslung his bag from around his neck and let it slide to the floor. I outstretched his sister towards him, and he took her carefully from me. He started, however, when one of her wilted (and now that there was cloth around them, slightly slimy, I noted; there was a wet-stain around where they pressed against my jacket the most) appendages peeked above my jacket.

"What the-?" He glared up at me. "Did you-?"

"It wasn't me." I declared, as my ship beeped its affirmation that it was ready to fly. "It seems whatever gene your father implanted in your sibling to give her the appearance of an angel is finally starting to kick-in. It's poor timing, I'll admit, but there's nothing we can do about it now until we get to the second base and I can take a proper look at her."

"Is she going to be okay?"

I sighed, shifting gears as the ship began to ascend. "I don't know yet, Dib. Don't ask me that."

And that was the end of that conversation. I believe that neither of us could really stand to talk about this anymore. It just made the situation far too realistic. Damn it, I was an_ Irken Invader_! Not a medic! How was I supposed to handle something like this? Sure, Dib was filled with the fluttery, affectionate instinctiveness that humans often had for their younger siblings, but that same nature was not engraved in Irkens. The urge to protect what was owned was as close as I got, or was comfortable enough to latch onto. I didn't know _how_ to be more than that. Nobody ever wrote down the instructions for this!

I decided I really hated caring. I really, genuinely hated it. But at the same time . . . I didn't. Caring, as much as I was loathe to admit it, had made me incredibly stronger than I had previously been. I'd never worked so hard at anything, let alone to keep anyone safe. The only other thing that had ever made me this motivated was my mission. And even _that_ hadn't seemed that important.

_Knock it off, Zim!_ My head snapped. _Focus on the task at hand now! Contemplate on your inner self LATER!_

I decided to take this advice and did as I was told.

I could hear Dib 'oohing' and 'ahhhing' quietly to himself as he looked out the window, still holding his unconscious sister in his arms. Gaz's lack of any response was really unnerving, to both of us, I knew. She didn't even look like she was sleeping. It was just like she was . . . turned off. Regardless, Dib seemed to have temporarily accepted her current state of being, and was enjoying the view as the invisible cruiser soared well over his city heights and past the forest on the outskirts of the city. Dib began shifting in his seat, like he expected us to land. When he didn't, he turned his attention back to me, eyes wide and curious.

"Not here." I said, simply. "I promised you I'd keep her safe. And I promised her I'd keep you safe. Hiding you both is essential in keeping those promises, something I fully intend to do."

Dib was silent some time, allowing us to pass the foreset entirely before he spoke up again, turning to look back out the window. "It's not that I'm ungrateful or anything, Zim," He began, slowly. "But . . . I mean . . . We hate each other, right?"

"That's a safe assumption to make." I agreed, cautiously. This far over anything, I risked a suspicious glance towards him, one antennae raised. "You're not about to tell me you love me or something, are you, Dib-stink?"

Dib gave me a dull look. "Definitely not."

"Good. Then what was your point?"

"Well, I mean, are you really doing this because of your promises, or because you have some sort of alterior motive?" Dib blurted out, with some anxiety lacing his tone.

I sighed. It was a justified accusation, but that didn't make it any less insulting. "If you're suggesting that you suspect I intend to use you two in some sort of dasterdly plan, rest assured you are in no danger from _me_. However, helping you both is not only motivated by a promise."

"Then what-?"

"Friendship, Dib-stink." I retorted, immediately, talons digging into the controls my hands were on as I spoke. As difficult as it was more me to admit, I wasn't going to back down and seem so weak in front of my former arch-nemesis. "Your sister and I are friends, now. I gained her trust back. I don't intend to lose it by crossing either of you. And you know as well as I things have changed in that department as well."

Dib nodded and said nothing, once again breaking conversation.

I knew by now we were never going to be able to fight again. We both knew it, accepted it, but this was the first time we had really acknowledged it. He would always look at me from now on, and while he_ might_ see an Irken menace, he would also see my actions. He would see his sister's savior. Someone who had done something where he could not. And when I'd look at him after getting over the initial shock of the largeness of his head, I'd see not a nuisance ruining my mission, but someone who had taken care of Gaz before I knew how important it was. A brother to a friend. Pitiful as it was, we'd never be able to lay a hand against each other ever again.

I felt a tenseness in the ship and turned to Dib again, noting how suddenly livid he looked.

"Are you well, Dib-stink?" I questioned, confused.

He lowered his head to look at his sister again. "Why is my dad doing this? Why _now_? Why lead us to believe that we're his kids just so that he could pull . . .? I mean, I don't expect some sort of enlightened answer from you, Zim. Your Irken. The closest thing you've had to parents are your Tallest overloads. You couldn't understand what its like to just be raised by someone whose supposed to be taking care of you and then find out that they've actually had an alterior motive the entire time."

I had to think about that. It was . . . a fair statement. ". . . I suppose I wouldn't. Regardless, I imagine it's not the most pleasant of experiences. Either way, look on the bright side, Dib-monkey; at least you have your sister to walk through this with you."

"I wish she wasn't, Zim." He shot me a dark look, a warning look. "Don't ever tell her I said this, or I'll rip your PAK off myself, but if I could change anything about this- any of this- I would take Gaz out of this equation. I wish my dad was targeting me, not her. I wish none of this had ever happened and that we could just lead normal lives. Even if it meant I'd never get to see her again, I'd want her to be happy. I'm not saying I wouldn't miss her. I'm just saying . . . I don't know. I just wish everything woud be okay again. For all of us."

"That's very noble of you, Dib," I noted, politely. "However, we are in this situation, and wishing isn't going to make it go away. You're an Elite Human. Act like one."

Somewhere in that order was a compliment. By the surprised expression on his face, I don't think that he missed it. He nodded, once, and then went back to readjusting his sister, stroking her hair absentmindedly. A lot like I had been doing over the past few days. Strange how so much had changed within a few short days. Four now, if I was correct. Four days to ruin a family. Four days to shatter a body and make a mutant of a normal teenage girl. Impossible. And yet done so easily.

By the time we landed, Dib had fallen half asleep, and the sun was just beginning to set. I couldn't risk taking the dangerous shortcuts I'd taken, and despite my speed, it still took nearly forty-five minutes. At least Gaz didn't appear to be getting any worse. The color was starting to full return to her flesh and her breathing evened out. Deciding that it had been a long day for them, I allowed Dibto rest, for the moment, and popped the hood of the cruiser, getting out to run the diagnostics on the house. Everything seemed to have gone well without me, and I sighed with relief. At least_ something_ had gone right today.

I walked back to the car, jostling Dib on the shoulder carefully, ready to catch Gaz if he started. "Dib. Wake up."

His eyes drifted open lazily, blood-shot from being woken from his deep nap. "Huh?"

I rolled my eyes, taking Gaz from him, seeing he was barely in any state to care for himself. "Come on. We're in the base's garage. If you wish to continue to sleep, by all means, do so. I have rooms ready for all of us. Just not in my ship."

He yawned, stumbling out and rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, m'kay. Where is it?"

We walked out of the garage, the lights shutting off automatically behind us as we went into the actual house. Of course, the lab was once again underground, but the ground-floor had been more suitably updated for the new guests. Gir trotted behind us, and I was genuinely surprised he'd been quiet so long. I wondered if he, too, had fallen asleep with the humans.

"Can I sleep with the big-head?" Gir questioned, eyes wide with his ignorant innocence.

I gave Dib a look. He shrugged. "So long as he's quiet."

"He's been surprisingly cooperative as of late." I noted, despite the fact Gir was right there. He never understood what we were talking about anyways. "It's possibly the severity of this situation has affected his sensors into-."

"Yeah, yeah," Dib interrupted, yawning again. "Sorry Zim, I just really need to sleep. Even with your little needle-thing, that muscle relaxant made me exhausted."

"I suppose that's understandable," I muttered, resisting the urge to get mad. It was so easy to get annoyed with my former arch-nemesis. I wondered what kind of experience the four of us would have living under the same roof. Definitely an experiment worth watching. I jerked my chin as we reached the hallway, towards his door. "It's the dark blue one, across from the purple one, your sister's room."

"Wait," he said, eyes darting between the two doors. "Why don't you have a room?"

"I sleep in the lab, or on the couch, normally." I replied, heading towards Gaz's room, the girl still in my arms and as unresponsive as ever. "Now go to bed. We're going to be here a while. You might as well get some sleep before something else bad happens."

Dib knocked on the wall(2), for whatever reason, and before I could ask him why it was he did that he was in his room, shutting the door behind him with Gir following obediently behind. I made a face, but did not pursue him. Instead I went into Gaz's room, placing her in her bed and tucking her in carefully. I'd made special modifications to the design of her room, so as to be able to examine her without having to drag her into the lab every time. The headlight above her bed was actually a scanner, and with a flick of the button, it did its job. The picture against the wall on the side of her bed blinked into readouts, which I read easily, kneeling next to her.

She was still sick, which wasn't surprising, but she had just broken her fever. I could tell by the light sheen of sweat on her forehead, as well as the decresing temperature her body was giving off. So she was recovering. I wondered if maybe Gaz hadn't actually ever _been_ sick. If her body was just having a hard time adjusting to her new, well, appendages. Whatever they were. I could still see them, pressed against the matress like wilted rose petals. Frowning, I turned her on her side, so as to avoid any possible damage. No need to hurt her anymore. I grimaced in disgust at the fuzz that still covered them, swallowing the bile in my throat and flicking the sensor into Watch-Mode. The picture turned back into a picture, and the light turned invisible. It would alert me if anything went wrong with her, but it wouldn't disturb her otherwise.

I sighed as I sat down in the family room, looking up at the ceiling.

What had I gotten myself into?

* * *

I couldn't help but stare at her.

She looked . . . so much . . . like . . . _me_.

Standing at the edge of a meadow, silver and white dress billowing and glittering in the gentle summer breeze, I stared. In the back of my mind, I wondered why a little girl had such a fairy-esque dress. Of course, all little girls like that kind of stuff, but not all of them actually had access to it. Long, dark magenta locks had been tied into a braid that she played with over her shoulder. The glow of sunlight reflected into her eyes, turning dull yellow into amber. Even still, she looked at nothing but me with wide, curious eyes.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice catching in the warm air and drifting towards her. I imagined I could see them.

She smiled, and depsite the fact that was almost exactly my face when I was little, it just seemed to fit. She couldn't have been more than four, if that. A tinkling laugh echoed around me, a little giggle that _was_ the child, just floating through the air. I almost smiled because of it. But all I could really do was stare at how beautiful she was. I couldn't even move when she began to push through the grass that was at her knees, walking clumsily and gayly as only a child could. When she reached me she threw her arms out, beginning to fall. I immediately stooped to my knees, catching her before she could fall, and found myself caught in a warm embrace. And all the while she was still laughing.

I loved her. And I didn't love a lot, so that was saying something. I turned my head towards hers, marveling at how soft her hair was.

"Mommy!" She shouted, and I froze.

I pulled away immediately, and felt abruptly cold. I sat on the floor, now stone, and looked around. The girl was nowhere in sight. And I missed her. Where was she? I felt afraid. I didn't even know her name, had no idea why she was here, but I was scared for her. Why had she called me her mother? I didn't have any children.

_"You can't even have kids anyways."_

I flinched violently, opening my eyes to find myself in some sort of marble temple. Looking up, the moon was shining. And looking down again, I saw that a quarter of the temple, directly across from me, was a pond connecting to a lake. And many people in white robes surrounded the bond, chanting something ominous. I felt a hand on my shoulder and spun around, feeling intensely jittery. Some sort of fear had consumed me and I didn't know what to do. I felt like I was about to be killed.

"Are you alright?" One of the robed people asked me. She sounded like a women. I couldn't tell.

I looked around as she helped me to my feet, gently, surprised to find I was shaking. I felt awful. "What happened to the little girl who was here?"

She said nothing and just looked towards where the rest of the cloaked members were.

I glared at her, that overwhelming terror creeping further into my chest. "Where is she?"

"I'm sorry." She replied, quietly. "I'm so sorry."

My eyes widened. ". . . No . . ."

My gaze went from the girl to the procession, stumbling backwards, towards where they were. And then I was running, my bare feet sliding on the smooth floor and making me scramble. Finally I crashed through them and was caught by several people, all of them asking if I was alright. But one of them was holding something. Something wrapped in a white, silk cloth with silver rose petals sewn into it. I couldn't breathe. Why couldn't I breathe?

"_No!_" I screamed, struggling against those that were now holding me back. "_NO!_"

The one holding the bundle looked up at me, and I immediately recognized that face, or lack thereof, beneath the cloak.

Membrane.

"I'll kill you," I breathed, stunned momentarily by his presence. And then I fought harder, blood-thirsty, more furious than I had ever been. "I'LL_ KILL_ YOU! SHE NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU! WHY DID YOU-?"

They let me go, and suddenly he was handing me the bundle.

"She didn't make it." He stated, plainly. "Because she can never exist."

I dropped to my knees, just missing the pond by a few inches. Some of the rose petals fell of, drifting into the sea and towards the moonlight, glittering like the dress hand. I felt cold, the absence of this child's warmth that didn't belong to me. That could've belonged to me but never would. I pushed the blankets aside, eyes watering and throat closing as I saw her face. So still and pale. Paler than even my normal complexion. She'd looked so vibrant seconds ago. And I'd taken that away. No, I hadn't. I'd never had it. I could never give her back her life because I never had any to give.

I lowered my head to hers, shocked by her coldness. I'd expected warmth. The change had thrown me.

"_I'm sorry._" I whispered. "_I'm so, so sorry._"

Someone took her from me again, and I felt suddenly drained. I watched numbly as they rewrapped her angelic little face, seemingly asleep. They layed her down in the water, and pushed her out gently. She floated, a bundle of white against the unseen current, floating out into nothing.

I killed her.

She was dead because of me.

I felt like I couldn't move, but somewhere, some part of me was thrashing with my inner turmoil. I sat here and did nothing. Somewhere, I acted. I felt like being in that somewhere part. I felt cowardly sitting here. How could I just sit here when someone had just died? What kind of person did that make me?

_Murderer._ Some primal, unfamiliar voice inside of me growled. _You're an abomination._

"I didn't do anything," I murmured, realizing suddenly how dark it was. I couldn't see her anymore. It was almost better that I couldn't. She was dead anyways. What worse could I do to her? "This isn't my fault."

_You're a liar. You've always been a liar. You didn't deserve her anyways! No one deserves a heartless mother like you!_

That finally sparked my irritation. My eyes flashed up towards the roof, where there was no longer roof but only darkness and a red haze drifting back and forth in some unknown current. "I'm not heartless!" I looked back towarsd my hands, which felt slick with blood I couldn't see. I felt awful. Like the whole world was dying around me because I couldn't control my temper. I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, my hands balling up into fists. "I. Am so . . . _Sick_ of everyone! I hate it here! I didn't _do_ anything wrong! I've never _done_ anything to that little girl! She's not even real!_ NONE OF THIS IS REAL_!"

_Then why is it bothering you so much?_

I said nothing.

_Admit it, Gaz. If you can't admit it to yourself, then who will you admit it to?_

"I'm not . . ." And I stopped. I didn't have to justify myself to a hallucination. A figment of unconscious musings. I'd been trying to gain understanding in my dreams for too long to not know what was going on. Subconsciously, I was upset. I felt wronged. And justifiably so. But why there was so much revolving around a baby- _my_ baby- I had no idea. I didn't like kids. I hated kids. So why was this bothering me so much?

I felt that panic welling up in my again and I rolled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest and bringing my forehead to a rest against them. I couldn't do this. This was just . . . too much. Way too much. Overdramatic things I didn't want to think about, never wanted to have existed, came rushign at me. And no matter how much I steeled myself, it hit hard every time. I was as good as an orphan. I was a mutant, being hunted down by someone I had believed loved me. And I'd put the only person who did love me, my brother- who was indeed not my brother, but a clone designed specifically to reproduce with me out of some psycopath scientist's disgusting fantasy- in danger of being captured, just like me. On top of that, I was probably being transported to a lab to be tested on.

Right now.

My eyes shot open, and I swore my heart-rate doubled. All I registered was the darkness around me before I threw back my head and screamed, pounding violently against anything that crossed me path. He had me. He'd already won. Where was Dib? Where was Zim?

_I'm going to die._

* * *

(1) This was really important to me. In stories with wings, people normally just let them sheath, majestic feathers and all. Well screw that, this is Invader Zim, and Gaz has ugly, fleshy/peach-fuzz-covered appendages on her back that are weak and wilted like rose petals. Or rotting bananas. Whichever you fancy.

(2) Knock on wood. Or metallic-base wall. Whatever floats your boat.

Yes, Gaz is kind of losing it now. Can you really blame her for losing it, at this point, though? Why am I focusing around babies? . . . I don't know, I feel like if someone told me that I couldn't have kids because of something they'd done, even if though I'm very much intune with Gaz on the whole 'kids' issue, I'd be furious. That's my decison, not there's. And to have something so intimate tampered with so nonchalantly would strike a low blow with me. Screw with my family and your dead. Screwing with my uterus is just taking that one step too far.

If you're still okay with Membrane, I don't know what's wrong with you.

Sentimental shit in the next chapter.

Till the next chapter.


	28. How To Lose A Mind

Panic attacks are clearly the moment to start seducing someone. Doesn't everyone know this?

Well now you do. Use this information wisely.

**"There's a drumming noise, inside my head,  
That starts when you're around  
I swear that you could hear it,  
It makes such an almighty sound . . ."  
-Drumming Song by Florence + the Machine**

Again, another highly recommended song. If one were to read into it, I'd thing the sound of pounding "drums" was her heartbeat racing, which is how I made this connection.

I think the hardest part of writing Dib and Gaz now is replacing "(my) dad" with "Professor Membrane". It's just so automatic now. -_-

Enjoy.

_P.S. GOING TO DISNEYLAND! IF I NEVER RETURN, YOU KNOW WHY!_

* * *

**Chapter 28  
"How to Lose a Mind"**

One would think that it is incredibly difficult to lose something that is not tangible.

And that one would be entirely, undoubtedly, _wrong_.

Struggling into consciousness is one thing. Attempting to still your paranoia, blame, guilt, loathing, and various other emotions was another thing entirely. Doing them at the same time was overwhelming. The first thing that happened upon my waking in a strange room was that I felt fear. The last time I'd woken, I was with Membrane and my brother, trapped in a basement. Now, who could really say where I was? Considering how dark it was, I couldn't have any idea as to where I was. And I wasn't surprised in the least, either, to find myself tangled in whatever sheets had wrapped around me. I did not, however, realize immediately that they were sheets. With my mind in chaos, I was wholly convinced I was trapped in a net, somewhere in a dungeon in my once-father's labs, and about to be experimented heavily upon.

Which I believe makes starting to tear apart every piece of furniture or object I could get my hands an entirely reasonable course of action.

The sheets, or to me, net, ripped rather easily. It was almost disappointing. I ended up shredding any piece of the fabric I got my hands on, kicking and flailing as I began hyperventilating in the tangle I was in. My hands did most of the damage, although my kicking feet tore holes in some places of the strained cloth wrapped around me. When I broke free I rolled and hit the floor, creating a hollow thump. The noise did not register to me as one I had made. To me, someone was coming and I froze, an unhinged terror making me tremble from head to toe. It did not help that a few minutes later, due to the noise I was making, someone actually _was_ coming, but to check on me, not kill me or use my body for immoral experiments.

I tried to stand, feeling very much like a newborn, and stepped on something that felt like rubber. Except softer, with fuzz in most places but random bald spots here and there. And it also hurt _me_ to step on it, not because the texture hurt on my feet, but because it pulled. Like I was stepping on my own hair. I let out a pained noise and fell onto my side, crying out again as that same pain tugged at my back. I rolled again, panicking to find that the weird rubbery stuff that hurt was starting to wrap around me as I rolled. The more I attached it, the more I hurt, and the more I hurt, the more freaked out I got. I muse what would've happened had not Zim, at that moment, come hastily into the room and untangled me from my own, unfamiliar appendages I wasn't even aware existed.

"Gaz?" Zim shouted, alarmed, steadying me and somehow managing to disentangle me, despite my furious rolling that I had yet to stop. "What are you-? Calm _down_! You're going to hurt yourself!"

I watched as the darkness gave way to a now dimly lit room, illuminated by star night-lights scattered across the roof. The moment I did not move that allowed Zim to disentangle me was the moment that I was captivated and confused by them. The most base part of my mind had taken over, and my natural, logical side was burrowed deep in a hole somewhere brooding. I was instinct now, and not my cynical, cunning kind. The kind that makes people jump off cliffs to get away from a fire and shoot before looking. Fear. Panic. I wasn't familiar with this kind of stuff. My body redesigning itself was throwing me off, setting my hormonal balance spinning on its axis and bouncing off the walls. To put it simply, I was a wreck. But also, to make things worse, I was also me. Which meant that, in any emotional extreme, I was definitely not the kind of girl to be messed with at the moment.

And though neither of us was really aware of it, Zim was currently directly in the line of fire.

"There," he said, sighing, recapturing my attention. I still had yet to notice the ugly, fleshy, fuzzy things on my back that he had just arranged. I had barely felt him touching them, too entranced and spastic to pay attention to anything else. "Did you hurt something?"

I stared at him.

In the dark, red eyes furrowed into confusion. "Gaz?"

* * *

To say Gaz was acting "strange" would be the understatement of the century. Psychotic was closer to the truth. Demented sounded about right for the look currently in her haggard and slightly dilated wide eyes. Terrified also seemed about accurate. Why she would in any way be afraid of me though, I had no idea. Granted, the last time I estimated she'd been conscious, she was with that awful human being that had somehow been allowed to raise children. Mutant children, yes, but infantile beings nonetheless. But she was here now, with me. Surely Gaz knew better than to panic at the first assumption without knowing all the facts?

I reached out my hand to touch her again, "Are you-?"

I should've realized my mistake the second her eyes flicked to my hand. Evidently, I did not see it until it was quite literally in my face. Specifically, her fist.

Without any warning whatsoever, I was sent hurtling across the room and into the door, slamming it just as I ran into it. My mind somehow took the time to register that Gaz had just delivered me a perfect rabbit-punch to the face. Pain exploded across my face and I clutched my cheek painfully, completely stunned. On certain occasions, Gaz punching me in the face would have been understandable. I was known to push her buttons, and one can only push so many with Gaz before there are consequences. But this time, obviously, I had done nothing wrong. I'd_ helped_ her.

And this was the kind of thanks I get?

"_What_," I shouted, unable to control my initial rage as I shot a furious, betrayed look at her. "The _hell_ do you think you're _doing?_"

But I stopped, seeing the expression on her significantly paler face. Gaz was staring at me like _I_ was the one who punched _her_. And like I planned on doing it again, repeatedly. She had her back pressed up against the side of her bed, seeming to be looking both at me and something that was not there. Two images in one, and whatever she saw, by the look on her face, I couldn't imagine it was very pretty. But I recognized it. The touch of madness hiding in the blood vessels of her red-rimmed eyes. Gaz had gotten sick.

And it wasn't the kind that came with a fever.

"Gaz," I said, slowly, cautiously edging towards her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Her eyes widened as I edged closer, but she did not move. In fact, she got very still. I probably should have been suspicious at this. I was about to grab her, though admittedly I'm not sure what I planned on doing when I grabbed her, where her eyes narrowed.

Immediately I braced myself for another impact. Instead of delivering a punch, she lunged over me, and like a much more agile version of leap-frog she was over me and out the door. Before I even had time to spin around she had kicked me in the back of the head, throwing me to the floor painfully. I heard her cry out, as if she'd been the one kicked, and got up to find she'd fallen over and lost her balance somehow and was now on her back. I took the opportunity to lunge at her, bracing myself over her and attempting to snatch her wrists in my hands. She jerked violently, clawing at my face and kicking her legs wildly.

"I'm- trying to- _help_ you!" I shrieked, irritated, shouting at her between grunts as I struggled to control her.

"_LIAR!_" She shouted, making me glad I'd had the sense to close the door behind me. Otherwise, the Dib-stink surely would've woken to check on us by now. And the last thing I needed was for him to find me in such a potentially compromising position.

I finally managed to snatch one wrist, pinning it next to her forehead. A part of me was tempted to just use my PAK legs, but I had a feeling that would only make things worse, not better. So for now, I was going to have to just tough it out with brute force. Which was becoming surprisingly difficult, even with Gaz still recovering from a cold. Beneath her, her wings seemed to be shuddering. Like they wanted to struggle with the rest of her but didn't know how. I worried that I hurt her, but I couldn't worry too much. Right now I just needed to calm her down and get her under control.

"What do you _want_ from me, Gaz?" I demanded, managing to snatch her other arm and pin it to the floor. Her legs were still kicking wildly regardless, and I had no idea how to get her on the floor. "I've done everything I can to help you! Why do you still act like I'm going to _betray_ you?"

"Everyone does!" She growled, locking eyes with me. That crazed look was staring to disappear with a fury I was more familiar with. And in a way, this scared me more than any madness she could have. "My father was going to use me for his own purposes! Why should _you_ be any different?"

"Why should I not be?" I hissed, sliding her arms above her head to get closer to her face. "One thing Gaz. I want one thing that I've ever done to you that put you in harms way."

"You lied to me!"

"I protected you anyways!" I shouted. "How do you expect me to be able to help you when you won't even let me get close enough to trust you?"

"So you preach about me trusting you when you've never trusted me to begin with?" She shrieked, angrily, beginning to struggle violently.

"It's reasonable when you have something to be afraid of!" I snapped back, grunting at the strain it took to keep her from attacking me. "What's _your_ excuse?"

She froze, abruptly, blinking in surprise as she stared at me. "You're . . . afraid of me?"

"Any person who isn't doesn't value their life," I hissed through gritted teeth. "You, however, have failed to answer my question; why are you afraid of me?"

"I'm not!"

"Well now whose the liar?"

She growled at me. A legitimate growl radiating from in her throat that made my eyes widen. Long forgotten Irken instincts told me to attack, to forget that this was Gaz and deal with her hostily. Thankfully, common sense overrode this, and instead I simply tightened my grip on her, ensuring she got nowhere.

"I'm afraid of_ you_!" She finally snapped, averting her eyes from my gaze.

As if I needed her to throw another curveball tonight. My eyes widened and my grip slackened. Thankfully, she didn't take advantage of this and remained limp, staring off at nothing to the side, completely expressionless. My fingers drummed uncomfortable against her forearms, and I felt the urge to take my knees off of her legs. The silence was growing uncomfortable very quickly, and the longer I hovered so closely above her, the more I became increasingly aware of our rather suggestive positioning.

"_Why do you want to help me so badly?_"

Her quiet voice startled me out of my stupor, and I looked down at her emotionless expression.

I looked away myself. "I don't know."

_Liar._

"Trust me, Gaz." I pleaded, ignoring the voice in my head as I regained my backbone. Or maybe not, considering how desperate and helpless I myself felt. Funny. Even when I had her pinned beneath me, at my mercy if I so wished it, she made me feel so worthless. "_Please._"

She remained still, staring at the wall with narrowed, frightened eyes like a caged animal, accepting the upcoming slaughter and feeling every aganozing moment of it. The more time that had passed though, the more I began to notice a peculiar change in her expression. Her eyes slowly began to pinken, and for a moment, I thought she was getting sick again. And then her eyse began to water, and an emotion never before seen on her face flickering into view. Her anger was melting, and her whole body began to quiver.

Immediately I was off of her, tugging the top blanket off of her bed and scooping her up, briefly, into my arms. I set the blanket around, kneeling before her to allow a certain amount of personal space between us. Her head was bowed towards the floor, and I resisted the urge to recoil as a drop of what immediately appeared to be water fell onto my glove.

She was crying.

I had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Gaz," I breathed, hesitantly reaching my hand towards her and letting it hover in the space between us, entirely unsure of where to put it.

She whispered, without her voice cracking. Her tears, as well as any anguish, were hidden and silent. "Is it over?"

I settled for taking her hand. "What do you mean?"

"The secrests," she hissed, flinching at the sound of her own harshness. "All of them. Do I know everything now?"

_No._

"What are you talking about?" I asked, squeezing her hand lightly. "Gaz, what did your father-?"

"He's not my dad!" She shrieked, gaining volume a moment before returning to her quiet state. "I know I'm not . . . normal. But that doesn't matter to me. It never mattered to me, because I've never been normal. And that's all fine and dandy, but . . ."

". . . But what?"

"I can't take anymore secrets, Zim. I'm done with the hidden agendas and withheld information. I don't have it in me to take anymore lies and brush them off. And I know Membrane spilled his guts, about me and Dib. And Dib can't keep a secret for anything, so I know that he's clean."

My gaze darkened as I saw where this was going. "But you think _I'm_ lying to you."

"Yes," she said flatly, lifting her head to look at me. "I do."

I scowled.

"Tell me I'm wrong." She challenged. "Tell me- honestly- that I know everything, and I'll drop it."

This was, in every literal sense, the moment of truth. Should I tell her? With Gir and her in the same house, it was bound to come blithering out of his mouth eventually, announced in that squeal he called a voice. And what would I do if that happened and the truth came out sometime after now? What would _Gaz_ do? That's what was important. I had no idea whether or not she'd have it in her to forgive or trust me again, if she chose to do so now.

I looked down. "The situation has changed. It no longer matters."

Her eyes narrowed, but she relaxed some, apparently relieved that I was at least being honest with her. She was right. No more lies. We were all going to be together, indefinitely, and trust could not be built on transparent honesty.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she repeated to herself, hugging blanketed legs to her chest. If the situation hadn't been so serious, I might've found her cocooned state to be amusing. "I think that, despite everything, I'm still the same person. Things around me keep suggesting that I'm _not_ the same, but, thinking back, I can't believer that's possible. Even if I thought I was dying, I would still be me, not matter what. The only reason I didn't react the same is because I didn't remember the circumstances, not my personality."

Something akin to fearful hope flickered in my chest. "_Do_ you remember?"

She shook her head, dowsing any hopes that flame had of surviving. "No. But, I always knew you were lying, about how involved you were in my life. I kept getting these weird dreams and flashbacks of you."

"You . . . dreamed of Zim?" Somehow, I felt a little smug. I'm not exactly sure why, but I decided to keep my emotions to myself.

Her eyes went to the ceiling. "Don't get a bigger head because of it. It's not like I could control it."

"Well, that only makes things all the more complicated," I muttered, removing my hands from her person. Her tears were starting to ease, and she appeared to be calming down.

She seemed justifiably confused. "Why?"

I sighed. "It is . . . difficult to explain without compromising our current situation. My instincts inform me that, should you find out what I neglected to tell you, we will no longer be as comfortable as we are. And I won't be able to help you anymore." I looked up at her seriously, all previously inner musings gone. "Yet, out of respect . . . I will leave the choice up to you, despite what my opinion on the matter remains. Do you want to know my secret?"

Gaz didn't say anything for some time. She appeared initially nervous, but as time passed, so, apparently, did her nerves. Her face set into a plan, unreadable, and yet very Gaz-like expression.

"Yes."

In any other situation, her lack of hesitance in an otherwise tense situation would've been admirable. But all things considered, I almost wished she had a different personality in her possession.

Almost.

* * *

Apparantly, he couldn't bring himself to look at me while he explained. He made a point of looking towards the wall, on the exact opposite side of the room. "Very well. But please keep in mind that you asked for this. You cannot blame me for anything, when you know."

"Alright," I replied calmly. His gaze shot to me before I could do anything else, and I was glad at my level expression. He searched my face a few moments before looking away, as quickly as his curiosity came.

He, to my utter amazement, looked uncomfortable. "So . . . three months is a long time."

My brow rose. "I . . . suppose."

Zim let out another impatient breath. But he made no move to stop. A deal was a deal, after all. "I won't bother asking if you remember that cliff you fell off of, as well as the rather vivid sketch you drew of one particular area."

My eyes widened. I felt like someone had slapped me. I'd completely forgotten about it, to be honest (1). Hiding my embarrassment with a flick of irritation, I waited for him to continue.

"That cliff is where . . . well, the first time that you . . ."

_What was he mumbling about?_

"Well, both of us really, I suppose. We were both there. I mean, well-."

My eye twitched. As if sensing the change in the tenseness of the air, his antennae twitched, and he glanced at me nervously. Upon seeing my smoldering, he looked up at the ceiling and mumbled something in a language we I couldn't understand. That, or he was just speaking to quickly and quietly for me to hear. My brow rose, resisting the urge to shiver. Was it me, or had it gotten colder in here? I wrapped the blanket tighter around me. Of course Zim noticed.

He seemed immediately concerned. "Are you well?"

"Fine," I muttered, looking at the floor. I really didn't like feeling so helpless. This lack of sense and erratic behavior my brain was determined to grace me with was exhausting. No wonder crazy people were often insomniacs; sometimes you were just too exhausted to sleep. "Just get on with it already . . . _please._"

That startled him, I knew. It was just polite though. Nothing really.

"That time on the hill . . .

_Why is he so nervous?_

_"_was the first time that we . . ."

_Wait . . . Oh god, we hadn't-?_

"Kissed."

* * *

(1) As I'm sure most of you had, as well. I love doing that, bringing back up things you've forgotten about. It makes me smile, or, well, smirk. That's about as close as I get.

Cliff-hangers are the most absolutely adorable thing I could ever think of. Don't you agree?

Yes! THE LAST OF THE SECRETS IS REVEALED! NO MORE LIES! NOW, ONE WITH PLOT ONLY!

That was particularly tedious. I'm glad to be done of it, aren't you?

Till the next chapter.


	29. The Unbreakable Vow

Ah, so, I guess I couldn't hold off forever.

Here it is, the rest of the reaction! As always, it's not as expected.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 29  
"The Unbreakable Vow"**

Stunned was a word not to be placed here.

I felt . . . empty. But at the same time, relieved. And scared. Surely he couldn't be serious? If so, what did he expected from me _now_? I didn't regret knowing. I needed to know. Everything. Just like always. But . . . one night. One night to mangle a universe and an ideal.

How wonderful it was to be human.

And all the while, he looked at me with dull, disinterested red eyes. Like he'd asked me what was my favorite color, and not just informed me that he'd apparently been in a relationship with me. Or had we? Either way, his gaze never wavered. I envied his mask while mine kept getting put on in misshapen, incomplete figures, crumbling every few words. This wasn't fair!

"You're not breathing," he pointed out, still in a bored tone.

Much to my chagrin, he was right, and I looked away, glaring at the wall, taking subtle deep breaths as I regained my composure. Polite as ever, he waited for me to do so.

"Did you love me?" I said, matching his tone and raising him a searching glare.

This got the reaction I wanted. The proof he wasn't nearly as unaffected as he pretended to be by this conversation. Dull red turned to white, round balls of blood. I'd caught him off guard with my bluntness. "I . . . we were not that intimate."

"What were we?"

"On the fence about what we were to do with ourselves. I initiated. But you never said 'no'."

A fair argument. Vaguely similar to that of a rapist would make against his drugged victim, but I understood. I'd let him have his way. I'd never made any move to rebuke any of his affections. I'd let them happen. And to both of us, that was my consent. That was my agreement, possibly even my encouragement, to continue. That his pursuing was welcome, or at the very least, not a burden to myself. Regardless, I shot him a dark look, my signature look. To hell with emotions. All I needed was the answers. I could contemplate on them later. "Do you still have feelings for me?"

He glared at me. Clearly he wasn't having this. "That all depends."

I hadn't expected that. My brow rose. I ignored the feeling of my tears drying on my face. "On?"

"Where you stand in the matter." He hissed, getting irritated with me, apparently. "You can't honestly tell me that this doesn't bother you, Gaz! You've avoided any emotion besides wrath your entire life! You can't possible tell me that-!"

"I didn't."

* * *

My teeth ground together, making the most unpleasant of sounds. I couldn't have cared less. Only Gaz could make me feel this much. Whether it be an unholy hatred or heated ones that Irkens should never have, they were always directed towards her. "You didn't even let me finish! How could you _possibly_ know what it is I wanted to say?"

She shot me a blank gaze. "Because it's what I would have said."

And somehow, this made me content.

"You never answered my question."

"You never answered mine."

She frowned a bit, looking at the floor, thoughtfully. ". . . I . . . had my suspicions."

"You knew?"

"My dreams were . . ." She looked towards the wall. I wondered if we'd ever have a conversation where we'd be able to look at each other the whole time. ". . . Mildly suggestive. Nothing particularly worrying, but it was insinuated."

"Do you think they're memories?"

"I'd guess that they're based off of them." She corrected, shaking her head. "Regardless, that's not what's important right now. I need to know what's going on in your head about me."

Seeing there really was no way around it, I hugged my knees to my chest. It was getting kind of cold in here. Guess that's what happened when you moved a thousand miles away from civilization. As soon as this was over, I was going to have the Computer turn the heating system on. "We are friends."

"But that doesn't mean you don't want to be more."

"Zim doesn't _know_ what to want right now, okay?" I spat at her, getting defensive after being pried at for so long. Her expression didn't waver, but her eye twitched a little, fighting off irritation I'd assume. "As far as the situation goes, taking your fragile state into account, you are off-limits anyways. The last thing you could handle right now is a relationship. Logically, until we find ourselves on stable ground, the matter should be shelved."

". . . So, in all simplicity, you're waiting for me?"

Damn her and her ability to read my sentences for what they are.

"Yes," I said, without hesitance. I refused to be bullied into nervousness anymore. Irkens were proud creatures, not the filthy, sniveling meat-sacks humans always ended up being. "But that doesn't mean you should feel obligated to me."

That seemed to catch her off guard. I continued.

"Despite what you say, your life changed you. We were, obviously, closer than we are now. You know far less about me than I do about you, and your opinions could have differed since then. Thus, while I am aware of my bonds to you, _you_ need not feel obiligated to honor your previous engagements."

Her brow rose. "You're offering to let me off the hook, even after I said . . . whatever it is that led you on?"

That was starting to get annoying.

"Yes." I assured her. I stood up, holding my hand out to her. "Come. You should rest. You've had a nightmare and a panic attack, you must be tired."

She let me help her up to her feet, still clutching the blanket around her like a cloak. But when I tried to released her she stopped me, gripping my hands with such fever for a moment, I thought she was about to attack me again. She looked at me harshly, but with sanity in her eyes. Regardless, I didn't let my guard down.

"If you really care about me," she started, slowly, the emphasis poised in each of her Lwords. "You have to promise to never leave me."

My eyes widened. "W-What do you-?"

"Everyone I've ever trusted has left me," she muttered. Funny. I hadn't expected this much insecurity from someone so haughty. "Everyone except Dib. If I trust you, you've got to swear that you won't do the same to me. Okay?"

I didn't understand. Why was she doing this? "I . . . But . . . Is this because I still like y-?"

"Yes." She said, interrupting me from saying it. From admitting my feelings, however complicated and unnatural they were, Irken or otherwise. "And no. That's not the point."

A lot of things didn't seem to be the point tonight. I sighed, setting her on her bed. For a moment she seemed hurt, and a vile bitterness flashed across her face for a moment until my PAK leg came out, and I began slipping off my glove. Her brows furrowed, but I held my now bare hand up to keep her from questioning me. I would explain in a moment if she was patient.

"Irkens don't make petty vocal promises that _humans_ make, like your brother." I insisted, spitting the species like it was acid. For a terrifying moment, I'd thought I'd insulted her by no longer including her of the same species, but she didn't even seem to blink. Either she hadn't noticed the slip or she was ignoring it, I couldn't be sure, but I doubted she was as accepting of her new species as she claimed to be. "We make Blood Bonds."

She recoiled a little. "We're not about to slit hands and hold each other or something, are we?"

My face wrinkled in disgust. "Ugh! That's just unsanitary! Of course not. The only blood being spilt will be mine. Watch."

A sick fascination that she couldn't hide creeped into her expression as I lifted my PAK leg to my hand, intently watching her eyes as I did so to see her reaction. Of course, I was also mindful of where I cut myself, as well as how deep, but still. The expression of murderous curiosity was an undeniably intriguing sight to see on such a face as Gaz's. My eyes barely had to watch through my peripheral vision as I etched the pattern into my hand, glancing at it when it was finished to affirm that it had been done correctly. I smirked, flipping my palm around to show it to her.

"The mark of the Irken Armada," I informed her, although some part of me said she already knew that, somehow. I reached around with some awkward difficulty and pressed it against the flat of my PAK. A beep rang out. I began talking, locking eyes with her as I said my promise. "I swear to you on my right as an Irken, I won't ever leave you. Not until you order me out of your sight."

Another beep. A whirring sound was heard and I removed my hand, replacing my glove. In my language, the beeps informed me my oath had been engraved in my PAK and duly noted.

Her eyes were wide, especially for someone who was always looking at the world with narrowed, generally irritated eyes. "That's . . . a very committed promise."

"Irkens take everything very seriously." I said, off-handedly, to try and dispell some of the tension in the room. "Now lie down. I'll fix your bedding for you."

She did as she was told, a thoughtfully serious expression on her face. I wondered if she regretted asking me to promise and if she'd take it back, knowing the full extent of it. My deal with Dib was different; only my honor as an Irken was on the line. This promise was unbreakable. She didn't have to know that, but I had a feeling she would begin to suspect it eventually. I sat on the edge of her bed, next to her hip after I returned all the blankets to their proper state and was satisfied with their appearance.

"Are you satisfied?" I murmured, pushing my luck by tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She nodded. "Yeah . . . Thanks, Zim."

I smirked. "Don't mention it, little Gaz. Now do as you're told and sleep."

She yanwed, but of course still had it in her to be a smartass.

"That's some way to talk to the girl you're in love with," she murmured, the drowsiness finally hitting her as it should be.

My muscles stiffened at once. "I never said that I-!"

"You're keeping me awake," she interrupted, opening her eyes to shoot me a disapproving look.

A growl rumbled from my chest. And yet, this was Gaz, in a nutshell; she'd bait you and snatch the bait away before you could sink your teeth into it. Seeing you chase the bait was what she liked to watch. And then the gate slammed shut behind her, leaving you staring after the idea of what could've been. A cruel temptress who promised nothing and gave nothing.

I couldn't resist the smirk that appeared on my face.

"Goodnight, then, Gaz. Rest well."

She mumbled something and turned over. I left quietly, jostling the bed as I stood as little as possible before leaving. A part of me wanted to be upset about this whole thing. Especially since I'd been forced to be rather uncharacteristic to appropriately handle the situation. And yet, I couldn't be completely upset. Because now everything was out in the open, and Gaz seemed to have taken our former almost-relationship very well. Granted, I had no idea where _she_ stood on the matter, but that wasn't important now.

For the first time, I began to be optimistic about our ending.

And at that moment I turned, after shutting the door behind me, to come face to face with an irritated Dib-monkey.

* * *

No nightmare could've ever prepared me for the hell that my father had unleashed upon my sister and I. It was so unsuspecting and vile that it was almost like child-abuse. No, in fact, it was more like sexual-induced labor inflicted upon the child by the parent. I mean, seriously- How sick did you have to_ be_ to even dream up something like that?

It was like something out of a crappy romance novel. Literally creating two beings who were _made_ for each other. And for once, I began to loathe my humanity, as my natural, instinctual curiosity led me down the theoretical path of what could've been between my little sister and I. Despite my earlier claims to want sleep, I already knew my head was going to have none of that. I'd realized the second we'd got into the Voot Cruiser I wasn't going to get any of my much needed rest tonight. No. Tonight was going to be staying up trying to force out the images of a new sister- a new Gaz- who had been the person my father wanted her to be. Sweet. Quite literally angelic.

And what if we hadn't mistaken one another for siblings? Could we ever really have fallen for one another? Somehow I found myself doubting it. I mean, sure, I was interested in girls and I knew my sister was pretty from the looks people gave her, but I couldn't even imagine the _idea_ of us being more than siblings. Soulmates was not a thing I believed existed. Apparently, Membrane deemed replacing such an intimate connection with compabitibility an acceptable subsitute.

Geez, how could I have been so _stupid_? It was my job to protect my little sister and the whole time I'd been trusting the person who'd ended up hurting her the most. And it wasn't even Zim! Which was more unbelievably shitty than I couldn't ever thought. If Zim had turned on my sister, as he almost originally did, before we told Gaz the truth, I wouldn't have been surprised. While I didn't know the whole story, I was vaguely aware of what was slowly starting to happen between the two of them. And it made me sick to my stomach to no end to even _think_ of what that bastard could do to her.

And then . . . he'd done nothing.

Oh, of course, they were often placed in intimate situations together, considering the occasional evasiveness Zim had to do when treating her at the start, but it had never been anything but professional. I'd made sure of that. But at the same time, I'd never had to really enforce it. Zim had policed himself on his own, which, while I was grateful, also confused me to no end. Why hadn't he made a move yet? To my utter disgust, Gaz didn't seem to mind how close they were getting. It was inevetable (_retch_). So what was stopping him?

I realized it when Gaz came home one night, after hanging out at Bloaty's by herself.

She'd done that on her own.

The first warning that she was in a bad mood was the sound of the door slamming- Gaz hated loud noises. So creating them herself was strictly out of character.

Immediately I cringed and prepared myself for the lengthy rant about something some stupid kid had done, or a new worker. I prepared myself to listen and avoid provoking her further. I was making dinner at the time- nothing fancy, just making hamburgers, since my dad had randomly bought the meat for it- and was glad that this gave me the excuse not to look at her. Gaz was like a cat sometimes- direct eye-contact was very dangerous.

"Gaz?" I'd called. "What happened?"

She let out an exasperated noise and stomped into the kitchen. I instinctively expected the smell of grease and cheese engraved into the very pores of her favorite eating establishment.

And almost wretched at the abrupt change in smell.

Gaz had, supposedly, been at Bloaty's that night. Alone. Or that's what she told me she planned on doing when she left. A story which I really doubted, considering I could smell sea water on her the moment she entered the room. She wasn't wet, but that gross fishy smell is something only a shower can expunge from the pores. Whether she was in it or not, she'd have had to be there for a while to get the scent to stick to her. She was at the beach. But I didn't push her on it. I just waited expectantly, concerned.

"Freaking _Zim_!" She'd spat. And held a hand up before I could react violently, which I would've if she hadn't stopped me. "No he did not hurt me or try to. He's just being . . . I don't even fucking know, but I don't . . . know what to do . . ."

That was weird. Normally when Gaz got riled up, it took more than a sentence for her to get quiet. I became worried, stripping off the gloves I'd worn to shape the patties before turning to her. The meat wouldn't get rancid so quickly- not in this cold weather. I turned to her, keeping my space as I leaned against the counter. "You want to talk about it?"

She made a face. "He's just . . . making my life unnecessarily complicated is all. I'm fine." And then her eyes flicked the finished patties. "Is that what's for dinner?"

And that was it. But it was enough for me to know at least the gist of what happened. I wasn't oblivious to the looks he gave her, even if he was careful. It became especially obvious when she was hospitalized a few days later, even when I knew for a fact she'd been avoiding him unless it was entirely necessary for him to see her, in which case neither of them talked much and conversation was mostly supplied by yours truly. It was almost insulting how they assumed, even after all that, that I still didn't have a clue.

He liked her. A lot. And as put off by emotions as Gaz was, I had a horrible feeling that somewhere, deep down, she had feelings for him too. Which was why I almost understood why he wanted to avoid her when she'd woken up without any memory of their relationship (if it was one) whatsoever. I hadn't expected it, because it was far too human of a move for me to have predicted Zim to make, but there it was. Zim had been hurt. He'd probably been more upset than he let on, which was actually not very much, aside from the initial shocked look he'd had when I talked to him face-to-face afterwords. Right after though he'd become hard, and just left, reminding me far too much of Gaz than I was comfortable with.

Really; and Gaz called_ him_ complicated.

Having been already up, of course I heard Gaz's commotion. I was too exhausted to act immediately though, but heard Zim's intervention. And despite what I'm sure was the best of efforts they were capable at the time, given their situation, those two weren't _nearly_ as quiet as they thought they were. Granted, Zim had some pretty thick walls. But somehow (what I'd guess was just sheer force of will) I managed to get up, change into pajamas, and leaned against the wall next to the door. Not the side it'd swing out on, but the other side, and just listened for a while.

_Hmph,_ my brain snorted._ Well it's about damned time._

I loathed myself for the remark, but no matter how hard I tried to pretend it didn't, it had its merit and that ring of truth to it that I couldn't avoid. It was as inescapable as anything.

I didn't make a move to hide myself when Zim came out. I kinda liked the startled look on his face at seeing me, leaning up against the wall with my arms crossed, probably a worse-for-wear sight, given my lack of sleep.

"How long were you-?"

"I came in sometime around the middle, I'd guess." We both spoke mutedly. Neither of us wanted to wake Gaz up. "You asked me about what my Dad said, right?" He nodded. "Come on. I figure I should tell you. I'm not going to get any sleep tonight anyways so I might as well do _something_ useful."

I waited for the "that's a first" comment. It never came.

"Dib-stink," Zim murmured, as we walked into the main room. "Exactly . . . How bad was it?"

My lack of response was enough, and for the moment, he asked no more. It was dark until Zim muttered something under his breath. Thereafter the lights illiuminated a dull blue- nothing too harsh after being in the dark house so long. I took note of the couple couches, as well as the TV. I noted the kitchen through the arch to the side, but at this angle, I couldn't see much of it. I wasn't here to explore anyways. However, I was keen to see that there was not a window in sight.

"_We really are cut off from the outside world_." I murmured to myself, taking a moment to stop and watch the wall.

Zim stopped too, looking at me over his shoulder. "What was that?"

I shook my head, plopping down on the chair across from him. "Nothing."

He cleared his throat, impatiently. When I remained silent, he glared at me. "Well are you going to start, or are you waisting Zim's time again, Dib-stink?"

I inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose at his anxiousnes. "It's not exactly easy to _say_, Zim."

"Regardless, it has to come out eventually." His expression became nervous as his red eyes shifted towards the hallway our rooms were in. His voice quieted slightly. "And to be honest, I don't feel as though it would be healthy to ask Gaz."

I nodded. "Right . . . Membrane is . . . probably more screwed up than we could've imagined."

His head tilted to the side in inquiry. "Really? How so?"

"I'm sure you know by now that Gaz isn't human. And while I am, we're both my father's lab-rats. Experiments. Granted, we apparently are bad ones, but were the product of his projects nonetheless."

"So Gaz theorized," he said, boredly. "But is that what bothers you so much or-?"

"He made us for a purpose." I interrupted, forcing the words out. I could feel how tense my jaw was, resisting the urge to grind my teeth together instead of talk. And for once, Zim sat quietly and waited. "I was just the test subject to see if he could make a stabile human being. Creating Gaz was what he really wanted to do."

I took a few seconds to control my breathing, as well as my anger. Mercifully, Zim still stayed quiet. I had a feeling that so long as he didn't have to watch Gaz do this, he'd wait for hours. Fortunately for him, it didn't take nearly that long.

"He made us to be . . . _compatible_ for one another." I spat, my eyes flashing with anger before I took a few more even breaths so I could talk clearly again. "_Sexually_. He designed us so that we could only ever reproduce with one another, but something went wrong in Gaz, and I guess she can't ever concieve. Naturally, anyways."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Zim stiffen. I glanced away from the wall, taking in his new, unexpected attitude with surprise. His hands had curled up into fists, the material of his gloves protesting as he dug his claws into his palms. He was shaking, quite visibly, and I could hear his teeth grinding together. His eyes were so intensely staring at the floor they looked as if they were glowing.

But the most shocking thing was the fact he was growling.

_Growling._

I didn't even know Zim_ could_ growl!

"Zim, are you-?"

"He _ruined_ her . . . ?" He hissed out, stopping trying to talk when his words became to mangled to understand. The venom in his voice stung even me, and his hatred wasn't even directed towards me, for once.

But my eyes widened as he reached the improper conclusion. "No, Zim- He didn't _rape_ her, or anything! When he was, I don't know, _developing_ her I guess, something about her reproductive system formed improperly. I know she's not sterile, I mean, because I'm unfortunately well aware of when she's on her period, but just something about her doesn't work right so she can't keep a baby inside of her."

Almost immediately, Zim deflated. He held up a hand for me to wait as he composed himself. When he seemed satisfied, he nodded and said. "Good . . . _That's good_ . . ."

I made a mental note to choose my words carefully around him from now on.

"Sorry for giving you the wrong impression," I muttered, rubbing my arm. "But, yeah, that's basically it. My dad wanted us to be incestuous and have mutant babies to make an army. He used us our whole lives . . . That about sums it up."(1)

Zim sighed, apparently fully recovered. "No wonder your sister seemed so erratic. You humans are particular about not breaking your society's taboos, and I'm aware incest is one of those unspoken wrongs."

I nodded. "Yeah. Gaz reacted . . . worse than I did. I gave up on my dad a while ago, but Gaz really looked up to him. I mean, yeah, he was my dad, so I loved him and all but Gaz. . ."

"I understand." He said, quietly. He looked up at the ceiling. "I should've killed him."

I could feel a speech coming on.

"I should've ripped out his filthy organs while I had the chance. I should've pulled his brain out through his nose and ripped his heart out with my claws."

I didn't try to argue with him about the morals of what he was saying, and the seriousness he spoke it with. To be honest, if I had been able to, I might've done the same. But we hadn't had the time, and he knew it. So I let him talk, nodding as he did.

"Next time he threatens her, Dib, I'm going to." He said, shooting my a serious look. "And if it comes down to it, please restrain your sister while I do so."

"Are you asking me as a favor or ordering me?"

"Whichever promises you'll deliver." He replied evenly. "And please try not to be mad at me when I take his life. I'm sure you're angry now, but you humans can be so indecisive and speculative when it comes to how you feel about losing people."

I nodded. It was fair enough. "Hey, Zim?"

"Mmm?"

"What does this all mean for our deal?"

He shot me a cautious look. "You are not planning on turning on Zim, are you?"

I shook my head.

"Then . . . I suppose that our deal really doesn't matter anymore. This planet is safe from the likes of Zim. I won't hurt Gaz like that."

Huh. So maybe this relationship wasn't _all_ bad for me. If they ended up together, I didn't have to worry about Earth getting blown up when Zim was feeling a little testy. I shook the thoughts off. I had to be thinking about hiding my sister before being worried about her social life. Really, our lack of friends was coming in handy- no one was there to miss us when we ran away. Maybe the school system, but Membrane could come up with some excuse as to why we wouldn't be showing up anymore. Probably something about independant studies. He had more than enough power. He could pull it off.

I stood up, yawning and stretching a little. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"Sleep well, Dib-monkey," he said politely, nodding at me before looking off in the distance thoughtfully.

I got to the front of the hallway before I stopped, looking at him for a couple of minutes. He didn't notice. "Hey, Zim?"

"Hmm?" Said alien blinked away his thoughts, turning to me.

I smirked a little. "You know what'll happen if you hurt my sister, right?"

Zim's eyes widened, his testimony that he hadn't predicted that sort of warning. Then he scoffed, rolling his eyes and resting his cheek against his palm. "How very brotherly of you, Dib-stink. I'm sure your sister will appreciate your over-protective instincts as always."

"I'm serious Zim. We're in a confined space for an undisclosed period of time. Do something to upset Gaz while we're all stuck together and I _will_ kick your ass."

"Like you _could_." Zim sneered, waving a hand dismissively. "Go hibernate, stupid Dib-monkey. I'll still be here for you to threaten in the morning."

My grin turned patronizing. "Good to know."

And there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he wasn't telling the truth.

* * *

(1) I feel like Dib's typical style of explaining things killed the severity of what Membrane did. But I couldn't find a way to write his speech without doing exactly that, thus, his words. So do what I did and accept that he's a buzz-kill before moving on.

Okay, so, I don't really have anything else to say.

Till the next chapter.


	30. Living in ConfinementThe Hunts is On

So I'm impatient and I really want to wrap up this story. It's long as hell. In which case, I believe a small time-jump is in order.

I couldn't decide on a chapter title, so, you just decide what you want to call this one.

**HEY, READ.** If any of you are in the Bay Area and going to Fremont's "Art and Wine Festival" tomorrow, my mom's going to be driving me and my sister down to drag us around all day. So, if you see me there, say hi to me! (if you don't know what I look like, go to my youtube account, on my profile).

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 30  
"Living in Confinement/The Hunt is On"**

I finally woke up from my nap around 27 hours later, with what, according to both Zim and Dib, was only a brief state of consciousness one of them coerced me into so that I could eat without having an IV of some sort in my arm. The first thing Dib did was awkwardly recommend I take a trip to the bathroom, which ended up being a rather smart choice.

But on a slightly less disgusting note.

Dib calmly explained to me, or rather, he made an innuendo to the fact that Zim knew about our conversation with my former father. Zim said all we needed to know about where we were was that we were well-hidden, and that there were proximity alarms surrounding us from all angles outwards of a 100 miles. It seemed a bit extravagant to me, but Zim assured me that we were in such a remote area, anyone within that boundary would have to either be hiding themselves, or looking for us, and that the radius gave us plenty of time to take off and run again, if it came down to it. He made no move to offer up where we'd go next, but a part of me really didn't want to know anyways. The rest of me just didn't care.

And much to my eternal relief, despite the rather intimate conversation Zim and I had shared between the two of us, he didn't try and act all . . ._ emotional_. Not that I wasn't quickly learning (especially from last night's affairs) that continuing my 15+ year-long streak of harboring no emotions whatsover wasn't going to be possible anymore, and frankly, nor was it healthy, but the relationship between Zim and I now had the maximum potential of falling off the fence and becoming extremely awkward. Right now we were perched on it. But one shove would really be all it took to throw us entirely off-balance. And that fear plagued the back of my mind and the pit of my stomach to no end.

Instead of emotional, he was -dare I say it- actually very helpful to our situation. He didn't pry about the details of the conversation we'd had with Membrane. He didn't try and have meaningful conversations with me about where he thought we were going to end up together if things ever settled down. And somehow, as if life was trying to throw me a curve-ball by throwing a straight-pitch, Dib too seemed to have chilled out.

Not that he wasn't the same annoying Dib I knew, but the perpetual tension between him and Zim had dulled to something I was no longer aware of. A mutual agreement of some sorts. Some secret pact they'd no doubt made in the apparently uneventful 27 or so hours I wasn't awake. While I had my suspicions they'd been placed on the _path_ of trust because of me, I sincerely doubted that it really had anything to do with me in the end.

Even if they'd never admit it, I'd known since I was eleven that Zim and Dib would end up being allies eventually. Whether it was because of some stupid mistake they could only fix together that lead them to becoming friends, or them having some sort of gay-xenophilic-crush-thing going on on the side (which, know that I thought about it with the latest information, was actually entirely impossible), I knew it would end with peace. An inconclusive, unsatisfying, end to the war that was really probably as precarious as the concept mine and Zim's relationship.

But hey, peace was peace, right?

So the house was . . . simple. Without tension, there were no fights. And Zim and I were doing a stunning job of disregarding our unresolved (mildly sexual) tension and avoiding the topic of _'us'_ entirely, in favor of keeping this unexpected peace we were now surrounded by. And to that effect, our house was, to say the least, completely, and utterly . . . well . . .

_Boring._

* * *

_**One Week Later**_

* * *

_Kick._

_Duck._

_Punch._

_Retreat._

_Kick._

_Duck._

_Punch -avoid- finish punch._

_Retreat._

_Kick._

_Duck. Lean backwards._

_Punch._

_Jump. Retreat._

"Ugh!" I snapped, infuriated. "Don't you know anything _not_ routine? If I was a real opponent, I would've used your consistancy to kill you by now!"

"Uh, Gaz?" Dib said, pausing at the entrance of the kitchen to look between me and the television. "You know you're watching TV, right? Those fights are coreographed. Not a lot of variety there."

I shot him the scowl instead of the actors on the stupid movie, one of few things I was currently willing to watch that was on right now. Although, I was quickly starting to regret putting that on my list. "I _know_, Dib. But they could at least _pretend_ to be fighting for real. Or hire better coreographers, for that matter."

From the hallway (oddly enough, where Zim had placed several control panels to check on the well-being of the house) Zim shot me a look of curiosity. A dangerous one, that had the sides of his mouth pulling up into a smile. I was tempted to ignore him entirely, but whatever crap was running through my system was making me slightly more aware of my manners.

"Does Gaz think she can fight better than your falsely glorified action heros?" He questioned.

I scoffed. "I _know_ I can."

Dib shot us both a glare before either of us could say another word. "If one of you so much as tries to say something even _remotely_ along the lines of 'prove it', I'm locking you both in your rooms for timeout."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Well what about you, Dib? You think you could beat Mr. TV-Action-Man in a fight?"

He glanced briefly towards the TV and crossed his arms, eyes darting from one side of the screen to the other. After watching them attack each other for a few minutes, he answered me. "I'm definitely positive I could beat the actors in a fight. If they really fought like that, I'm still 95% sure I could beat them. The 5% being unavoidable lucky-shots or unexpected interventions of some sort."

"As much as I'd love to knock Dib down a peg, he's actually probably spot-on." Zim said, eying the fight with a frown. He rolled his eyes at the series of explosions that soon followed before talking to us again. "An Irken smeet could fight better than that after their first week of training. The Dib-stink can probably credit all of his skill to fighting the Almgihty Zim."

I smirked at his arrogance. Dib glared at him in defiance. "Hah! Don't be so quick to credit all of my skill to fighting you and your alien technology, Zim. Gaz and I are naturally-born fighters. Ask anyone."

At first, I smiled at him. He looked like an idiot with his chest puffed out and his hands on his hips like that in what was easily one of the most prideful stances I'd ever seen him take. It was while Zim was rolling his eyes at him that it hit me. Or, the reminder brushed against my shoulder, stifling the laughter making it's way up my throat in its track.

_Naturally-born._

My hand instinctively went to the small plummage still tickling my shoulder. I was being sensitive, and I knew it, which is why I immediately stilled the muscles on my face to where they were so nobody would notice my abrupt mood change. Dib hadn't meant it like that. Really, neither of us had yet to figure out exactly 'how' we were born. And frankly, I didn't want to know. So it was normally the boys discussing that in the labs while Zim sent Gir upstairs with me to hang out and make noise, so I wouldn't hear anything and would get distracted. It was little things like that that let me know just because we weren't talking about it, didn't mean it wasn't still true. That just because we didn't frequently talk about it didn't mean he still didn't care about me.

But sometimes, this time for instance, I wished he wasn't so observant. At my stilling and inconspicuous grooming of my wings, his eyes shifted to mine. Dib remained oblivious. Being a teenage boy, no matter how much of a pansy (to me, at any rate), he was still engrossed by the action on the TV. No matter how crappy. Regardless, Zim's antennae rose at me, a silent question of my well-being. His eyes briefly shot a glare to Dib, as if wondering whether or not he should do something, but I shook my head. I was fine. Like I said, I was just . . . sensitive, lately.

After my emotional outburst that week or so ago, Zim took the time to scan my body to read a little more into the affect my new set was having on my body. Physically, I was actually a lot healthier than I'd been in the now 4+ months I'd been sick. I didn't get back-aches anymore, and I'd completely recovered from my cold. And for a few moments, I'd felt complete relief. The kind of satisfying, fulfilling, completely triumphant relief I had been waiting for since this started.

And yet with good news, the bad must soon follow.

It wasn't necessarily bad like my life could still possibly be in danger. But, according to what Zim could tell, the part of my body that had been preventing this transformation sooner had apparently been due to my human half. A human body reacts violently against anything that shouldn't be there, and had probably been trying to push out my wings entirely. My non-human half fought back, which explained the sometimes excrutiating pain.

Obviously though, the non-human half won. But not without leaving a messy trail of bodies behind; a hormonal imbalance. Of all the random things it could come up with, my hormones were now on the fritz.

To his eternal credit, Zim somehow managed to explain it to Dib and I simply. He said it had something to do with puberty, and how hormones in humans were what prepared them for, well, puberty- the ultimate physical passage from childhood to pubescence and adulthood. Membrane had somehow manipulated this change, and took it a step further. To make the passage from_ human_ to _mutant freak_, he needed a trigger, which, apparently, were hormones. And with the freedom of my wings came the _entire_ freedom of my hormones.

I have to say 'entire' because according to Zim, my emotions had been off-balance for the past month to prepare for this. Which, really, actually explained a lot for me. It was why my personality was off and difficult for me to maintain. And privately, Zim informed me that this was why I'd had such a violent back-lash that night; that was the climax of their release.(1) Which also explained my rather disturbing reaction to my dream, even if it _did_ strike a chord in me.

So they actually hadn't gone in my back, and I doubted that I would be able to do it on my own. And since having Membrane's help was out of the question, that just left Zim's theories, Dib's ideas, and my effort to test out both. Over the week, much to Dib's amusement (something about penguins; I don't know), I started to shed the fuzz and sprout plummage. They were white, but peppered with black. Kind of pretty I guess, but they really just looked dirty to me. They were soft though, I had to give them that, so really the unnecessary, frequent grooming was just an excuse for me to touch them. I blamed the urge on hormones and put it to the back of my mind, like most of my problems.

Back to the present.

I frowned, realizing just how truly bored I'd become with the situation. I raised the remote, watching Gir stroll back into the room and sit next to me on the couch, now with snacks in hand. "Whatever. I'm going to channel surf now. This movie is now off my 'Acceptable to Watch' list."

Dib shrugged and walked into the kitchen himself. Zim just went back to working, removing something from his PAK to do whatever to the panel in the wall he was messing with. If we stayed here long enough, I had a feeling I'd end up asking him about that kind of stuff. His technology was pretty cool, if it was a weapon. Maybe I could pick up a few things about the manufacturment, too.

But till then-.

_Click_.

"-Today, on _Bounty Hunters_-!"

_Click._

"-I swear, just give me a second chance-!"

_Click._

"-If you want to know how a _real_ bro bends, _I could give you some private lessons-._"

_Click._

"-I thought you loved me-!"

_Click._

"-as Membrane announces city-wide search for missing children!"

My hand froze where it was on the next button, and ice replaced the blood in my veins. Any disinterested boredness I'd had was gone. I was paralyzed with a fear I didn't recognize. The remote fell from my hands and automatically, like I expected him to walk into the room, I was on my feet. My eyes were glued to the TV.

"Aw, lookit!" Gir squealed. "It's the puppy-vendor! He smells like pickles and soap!"

It was almost like I couldn't hear him anymore.

A news reporter stood before a crowd, and behind him, I could see a stage with a giant screen above it, waiting for the man I'd believed to be my father. Until than, we were stuck with this man and his story. Briefly, I wondered what the world would think of Membrane if they knew what he'd done to me. What he'd done to Dib. What he'd intended to do with us.

_He wouldn't be so lovable then, would he?_ I growled, my hand curling into a fist. I was glad I had dropped the remote, or surely I would've crushed it just then.

"_Sources had leaked to us that the project, one the public greatly fears has the potential danger to society's and the individual citizen's well-being, has been on the run for over _five_ days now, as of today. The public is in an uproar and is quickly becoming into a frenzied mob at this withheld information._

"_These same sources also say that while the experiment is gone, so are Professor Membrane's very own children, high school student's Gaz and Dib, who attend the local highschool in the area. It's widely believed that this violent, already questionable creature has stolen these children and taken them hostage. We'll cut to the conference now, Live on Channel 58._"

The camera zoomed passed the reporter to focus on the screen, where a large projection was feeding the image of Membrane approaching the microphone, looking as regal and important as ever. Just looking at him again- that pristine, starch-white jacket hiding what I imaged were cold eyes behind equally lifeless goggles- sent unwelcome shivers down my spine. He tapped the mic once, cleared his throat, and spoke. Behind him, I could see, with great surprise, his colleagues looking . . . what was that? Angry? Irritated? Stoic? I couldn't tell. The camera wasn't focused enough on them.

That was when he started talking.

_"It has come to my attention that someone has leaked classified information about my ongoing experiments in my labs._" He began, formally. "_I'd first like to let it be known that this party has been identified, and dealt with accordingly. Membranes Labs does not tolerate any sort of mutinous slander within it's employees._"

**_"What'd you do, feed him to your pet freak?"_**

I flinched at the shout from the television. Freak. And a pet, too, apparently. They were talking about _me_.

_Am I . . . really a . . .?_

Membrane's brows furrowed in a glare. "_My experiment is in no way as barbaric as you all try and make it out to me. It's highly tame. The most problems it's ever had is having a disrespectful mouth when it comes to speaking politely. It's in no way violent or blood-thirsty. We are, after all, talking about an Angel here, not some sort of lake-monster dream up from a horror movie._"

_**"****Membrane, Membrane! Channel 21! If your creature didn't take them, than where are you children?"**_

"_My son is by no means in any danger, and is quite well. My daughter, however, is another story.__"_

My eyes widened impossibly, and my hand went slack.

_Don't do this._

"_While my son is currently residing in Membrane labs for me to watch over him in this time of great work, where he is currently working with me on this project, my daughter has, in fact, run away from home._"

_Why are you doing this?_

"_For reasons unknown, she run off, away from home. It has been one day already, and my daughter still eludes me! This is a picture of her, here, on the screen. If anyone has any information on her whereabouts, please, I beg you to come forward with the information so that we may locate her and bring her safely home. I am deeply worried about her well-being, and fear what may happen to her while she is away from the safety of home._"

_ . . You . . . bastard!_

"_For this reason, I will be sending out my personal Seeking Squad to attempt to locate her in the area. I would like to reassure you that while the creature is kept under tight lock and key in my labs, my daughter is not."_

_But you'd _like_ me to be, _wouldn't you?

_"So do not fear the helicopters mean something bad has happened. It's only to attempt to find my missing family member, whom I hope is still well. With that, I hope your questions have been answered. Know that our city is safe, and nothing has changed. This press conference is over. You are all dismissed."_

And just like that he left, and the old reporter was back, recapping the conference to anyone who'd just tuned in. And all the while, I couldn't believe the absolute _audacity_ he had to do this. The balls he had to put on this show and convince everyone of his own hype. Like every word out of his mouth wasn't the lie I knew it to be. Like nothing was different, and this was just another conference to announce some sort of nuclear toaster. A formality. It didn't matter.

Like I didn't matter.

Like the fact he was _ruining my life_ with an excuse and his raw influence didn't matter.

The flick of the camera to several reporters sitting around my table caught my attention, making my eyes twitch at the change in lightning from the gray of winter sky to the harsh, carefully-lit lights in the room.

_"I don't know about anyone else, but I've really got to say, no matter what Membrane says, I feel like this thing is dangerous." Someone started, definitively._

_"Exactly, I mean, if it's not, why keep it under lock and key?"_

_"And that's exactly my point right there, Karolyn, that's right where my mind was going. I mean, the Professor has never let us down before, but let's face it, there's nothing right about this. I'm over here having Frankenstein flashbacks, and we all know how well _that_ story ended. I don't see why this should end any different."_

_"Right, and that's the thing- How can you trust something inhuman to stay by our human laws? The Professor is messing with the natural order of things here and I don't think he realizes how thin the ice he's standing on is becoming."_

_"I feel as though we're missing the point though. We're focusing too much on Membrane. When we get down to it, a teacher will get nowhere with an unwilling student, no matter how great or knowledgeable. This thing is clearly a menace to society, irritable nature or not, and should never have been created to begin with."_

"_See, and I have agree with Ted there, this should never have happened and it needs to be dealt with accordingly. It needs to be wiped off the face of the Earth so the public can just move on and forget this ever happened. The population isn't ready for this type of experimenting yet._"

"_But is that morally right? I mean, this thing didn't really have a choice in the matter of creation, we've got to keep in mind that this thing wouldn't even be here without the Proffessor. When you get down to it really, it's existance is based solely on just another one of Membrane's wacky ideas._"

"_It doesn't matter. It's an abomination any way you turn it. There's no angles here. Tie it to the stake, set it on fire, and let's put it behind us a bad memory-_."

I couldn't move. Listening to Membrane lie through his teeth was one thing, but listening to this was . . . something else. I'd never thought about what the population might think of this. I'd been so obsorbed in the dangers the Professor posed that I hadn't even stopped to think of what the public could do. A powerful leader, or a planet who was too scared to admit it- I didn't know which one posed more of a threat to me.

A mob motivated by fear was a dangerous thing. I had unknowlingly become the symbol of what was absolutely wrong in this world, an abomination to be destroyed. I was the heretic on trial, not Membrane. As far as people were concerned, he _made_ a mistake. I _was_ the mistake. (2)

_**SHINK!**_

Before I could react, something was hurled past my head and had slammed into the TV screen, shattering it into pieces. I lifted my wings to cover me automatically, and felt the loose shards brush against my wings before sliding off the smooth plummage to the ground. When there was no more shattering noises, I reluctantly opened my wings to peer at the sight.

Glass was all over the floor. The TV now had wires sticking out of it, and sparks fizzed and popped. They wanted to work, and they couldn't. Upon more careful inspection, I saw a familiar wrench-like object's handle sticking out from the inside of the television, and looked to my right, where Zim was.

His hand was down, and his teeth were bared at the place the reporters had been only moments ago. Glancing to my left, I could see Dib had appeared in the doorway, looking stunned. But by the way his hands were jammed in his pockets, I could tell he'd probably looked like Zim had, before the screen had been shattered. I looked back towards where Zim was in time to see him smooth his shaking antennae down and look to me, the picture of a serene soldier.

"Are you alright?" He asked me.

I nodded, flashing my wings out behind me to dispell any glass that might've been caught. Bits of what might've been dust fell off, but nothing else. "Yeah, I think . . . And, um, you?"

The question was necessary. I'd seen Zim get mad, but the guy had just hurled a wrench across the room into his own television so hard that I'm pretty sure it was imbedded in the wall behind it, too. Not to mention his feelers were still quivering slightly, and his talons were till digging into his palms.

"I believe that the television . . . should remain off, for now." He stated with some finality. But he had the courtesy to pretend to ask our permission. "Is this alright with you?"

"Fine with me," Dib said. "I'm going to go get a broom. I just . . . need to do something with my hands right now."

"Understood. I'll instruct the house to refrain from cleau-up." He said, looking back towards me. His expression softened so that I worried what it was he saw just then. He walked towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders and speaking in a gentler tone that his authorative one from before. "Are you sure you're alright?"

I looked down, away from his eyes, where they couldn't get me. "I'll be fine."

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Don't take any offense to this, Zim, but the last thing I want to do right now is talk about this with you."

He nodded, "I understand. Come, you should rest. It's getting late."

I didn't say a word, but I let him guide me into my room. As if I didn't already know where it was.

As much as I didn't want to admit it, things had changed. Immensely. And all I wanted was to be by myself and contemplate this abrupt change of opinions. A few months ago, I could've cared less about what anyone said about me. But now, instead of being that sometimes creepy, mean girl down the street, I was what everyone said I was; a freak. A monster. And I refused to pretend that I wasn't. I loathed people who didn't believe the truth because they didn't like it. I wasn't going to be that person in denial about who they really were.

But then . . . was I really going to call myself a monster?

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn't even realize Zim had hugged me until he'd pulled away and rested his forehead against mine, setting his hands gently on my shoulder.

"Those people don't know what they're talking about, Gaz." He insisted, gently. "They don't know you. They don't know you like Zim does. You have to remember that they're wrong."

_How did he know what I was . . .?_

I turned my face away from his, "Zim-."

"Listen before you argue." He insisted, taking his hands off my shoulder to cup my face. My breath caught in my throat and I struggled not to visibly react. He was too close. But he didn't look like he was about to back off anytime soon. "You can't pretend that all of your emotions are from your hormones. Nothing so trivial as some natural human affliction could affect you unless you were letting it. Unless some part of you _believed_ what your erratic emotions are telling you."

"I didn't-!"

"Do not . . . _lie_ to Zim!" He snapped, a pained look flashing across his face. He swallowed tersely before looking into my eyes again. "I wanted to kill every single one of those filthy news-drones who spoke a word against you. If you wanted them dead, Zim would do it for you in a heartbeat. All you have to do is say the word. I'll even wait till your asleep, so you don't know when it happened. Do you want that?"

For a split second, I didn't take him seriously. But the amount of severity in his eyes rang with a truth I couldn't ignore. He wasn't kidding. He'd kill those people for me. People who had no idea what they'd done.

I swallowed and shook my head. "No. I don't. They don't matter to me at all."

"But it does matter what their opinions represented, didn't it?" He asked, sitting next to me. "Gaz, you shouldn't be bothered by what the population thinks. They're scared, stupid, filthy human beings with worms for brains. Your brother will argue that the individual is smart. But Zim knows better than anyone that the group is a mass of stupidity. They're sheep following a herder, that's all. They probably don't even really believe what they said. They're only saying it because they think it's what _supposed_ to be said."

I jerked my face away from his hands, finally. My irritation was gnawing at my stomach, but it was ignored. Supressed. Forgotten. "I don't need the pep-talk, Zim. I _know_ all of this already."

He gave me a look of disbelief, hands resting on mine. "Than why is it you look as though someone has kicked you while you were already down?"

"Because no matter what they believe , I _know_ they're right!" I snapped, jerking my hands away from him as well. "I am a freak, Zim. I'm a mutated science experiment. To hell with the world's 'true opinion', or whatever crap you're trying to feed me. Facts are facts, okay? So stop trying to pretend that it's different!" I took a deep breath, bundling my legs up against my chest. "You don't get to change the truth just because you don't like what it is."

Zim was blisfully quiet for a little while, probably debating whether or not to just end the conversation here. I wouldn't blame him. I wasn't in the mood to talk about me. I just wanted to go to bed, and have a sleepless night contemplating all of this on my own. This all felt too much like a pity-party. I was Gaz Membrane, powerful, scary mutant freak and former daughter of the infamous Professor Membrane, not the sad little girl hiding under the stairs. I hid in the middle of nowhere. And I could also take care of myself.

Zim, on the other hand, didn't seem to be willing to let me do this on my own. Instead of leaving like I hoped he would, with a great sigh, he put his arms around me in a hug and rested his head on top of mine comfortably.

"You're awfully stubborn," he informed me casually, with another sigh. "Why do you refuse to let Zim help you?"

"Because I don't _need_ your help."

"And I'm offering it regardless." He countered. "You don't have to make this so hard on yourself, Gaz. Even if you don't wish to speak to Zim, you always have your stupid brother-unit. I'm not sure how good of a listener Gir would be, but I'm sure he'd listen to you too, if you wanted him to."

I couldn't help but laugh a little at that one, however unwillingly I did so.

"The point is, Gaz, that you need not act as though you are alone." He continued, turning my face with his hand to look at him. "Keep in mind that Zim is always here for you, yes?"

I looked down, slightly uncomfortable at how close he kept putting our faces. "I know."

"Good."

I didn't expect it. I don't think either of us did. I'm thoroughly convinced he had every intention of leaving after that, but he didn't. And I made no move to make him. Instead, my hand slowly wandered to his face, and he made no move to stop me. He was extremely still as my hand wandered about the smooth countours of his face, making me realize just how effeminate it could potentially be. For an alien whose race prided themselves on their conquests, if he was anything like the norm for his species, they were awfully delicate-looking. Especially considering they were supposed to be so tiny. A part of me wondered if this was the true reason the Irken race was so violent- the constant understimation driving them to rid themselves of those who towered over them. Anyone who could be better than them in their eyes.

And then Zim blinked, temporarily cutting me off from the vibrant red that was his eyes, and my theory was forgotten.

Feverently embarassed with my inability to control myself, I let my hand start to fall from his face. It fell on the area where his collarbone would be, hidden by his clothes. Actually, for the past several days, Zim had stopped bothering with the uniform. Instead, he wore a black, sleeveless, turtleneck shirt made up of a reptilian mesh, with the Irken Armada symbol printed on the front. Under this was another black, long-sleeved shirt. But no more extravagant, blatant alien uniform. The first time I'd seen him dawn this casual outfit, I'd asked him why the change. He'd said it was what he normally wore under his usual ensemble, and it served its purpose just as well as the other stuff, if not better, on account of it being lighter to wear.

"Sorry," I apologized. "I must be just . . . tired, I guess."

Zim placed his hand over mine, moving it so that it rested lower, where his abdomen was. I could feel a pulse there, the rythm of his life, and felt a bit awed. Then I remembered- his squeedily-spooch. He didn't have a heart, so it wasn't on there upper left side of his torso, where I thought it would be.

"You don't need to make excuses to touch Zim," he said, quietly. The way he said it made my face flushed, and I set my jaw to keep me from looking like an embarrassed little girl in an awkwardly (and quite suddenly- _thanks lack of self-control_) intimate situation. His other hand went to touch my cheek, cupping my face in his three-fingered hand. "You look very pretty when you blush."

I gave him a dull look, embarrassment stifled, for the moment. "How very cheesy of you. Since when have you seen me blush?"

He flashed a wicked grin at me. "Oh, frequently, actually. Though oddly enough, not after the first time we kissed. But many times before." His grin broadened when I rolled my eyes, knowing _exactly_ where this was going. "It was so easy to make you blush. Little comments here and there. Especially when the Dib-stink wasn't there. You looked as though you'd been sunburned, then."

"Zim."

"I'm _serious_," he said, his face softening as he rubbed his thumb along my jawline, watching it as he spoke, suddenly a touch less amused. "You'll never understand how truly sorry I was when I found out I'd failed to protect you."

"Stop." When he did, I sighed, resting my head against his chest and wrapping my arms around him, surprised at how suddenly comfortable I felt being this close to him. Wasn't I just blushing a few seconds ago?

_This is different. _My mind insisted._ He's conjuring up some unjustified guilt out of nowhere, for _you_. This is comforting for him. Not sexual tension._

_At least . . . not_ entirely_._

"It wasn't your fault, Zim." I murmured, listening, waiting for the sound of his squeedily-spooch to stop shuddering in his abdomen. It was quivering, like it was upset or something. No longer rhythmic or soothing. "Everything wrong with me has been Membrane's fault from the start, never yours. Maybe mine. But not yours, okay?"

"If it's not mine, it's not yours either." He replied, tilting my chin up towards my face. I was stunned at how suddenly close he had our faces, wondering if he'd done this on purpose or something. Was it possible, that he could be that manipulative? Zim wasn't as much of an ass to use me when I was vulnerable, was he?

The answer was in his eyes.

Yes. Yes, he was.

But not for the reasons that I thought.

I could feel his breathing on me, through his mouth, gentle, like mine. His squeedily-spooch began to chill, and my hand eventually went slack against it, falling into my lap. Now with two free hands, the other went to the small of my back, directly between my wings, pressing me too him just a little more. I locked eyes with him, daring him, afraid that he would and afraid that he wouldn't. I was in a paradox, not knowing what I wanted.

So Zim was just going to have to want enough for the both of us.

And he did.

The first thing I noticed was how gentle he was, barely brushing our mouths together. The second was his hand running through my hair, pushing it back behind my ear. Like the rest of me, it too had lost its usual luxurious vibrancy. Instead, it was a bit stringy, and I desperately wanted to just chop the bristly edges off, but neither Zim nor Dib seemed to trust me with sharp objects in my current bi-polar state. They barely let me have plastic knives to eat (if they proved necessary), let alone sole control of metal scissors. For a moment, I was self-conscious about it.

But the way Zim pressed to me a little more, I didn't think he minded much.

I pulled away from the soft embrace, not entirely sure I was alright with the situation as it was. Zim hardly seemed to notice my reluctance, nor did he seem insulted by it. Instead his hand resting on my cheek drifted to my back, brushing carefully on my wings.

Neither of us expected the shudder that came from it.

It wasn't necessarily my doing, but more like it was some instinctual reaction to the more or less unseemly new part of my body. We both stilled, Zim's eyes going to my face warily, obviously fearing he'd crossed some sort oF line or unspoken boundary.

* * *

(1) Oh, the awkwardly worded things you discover in re-reads . . .

(2) I really like that sentence there. A bit egotistical, yeah, but I do.

If you saw the Legend of Korra reference in here, go get yourself a cookie and reward yourself for your knowledge.

LOLOLOL, I'M SUCH A TROLL. Left you on a cliff-hanger there, didn't I? Well, sort of. I originally didn't let them kiss, but, after 29 chapters of only_ insinuated_ smut, I figured I'd give you guys SOMETHING to squeal about.

Till the next chapter. :)


	31. Part 1

And we progress. This chapter should be long. Things get really intense here, so, fair warning.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 31  
"Part 1"**

After cleaning up the glass, I'd gone to bed. Not to sleep, but to think.

I knew that even I couldn't come close to imagining what it was that Gaz was going through right now. The world was quite literally against her. Regardless of whether or not they had a face to their hatred, bigotry and fear, Gaz knew that it was her they wanted up on that podium, burned alive until she was nothing but ash. The thought made me sick to the point I was tasting bile in my mouth. But I couldn't think about anything else.

I wondered, selfishly, what would happen to me if Gaz died? Would I become a mess, or some sort of vigilante, out to avenge the lost life of his sister? Would I kill people, or would I use some sort of political tactic about acceptance and equalness? I wasn't a killer. But if someone took the only family I had left away from me, could I be?

I knew that Zim would become one, in a heartbeat, if he wasn't one already. If someone took Gaz away from us, I knew a mysterious onslaught of murders would ensue. We'd inevetably team up to avenge her, that I knew, so I would probably go into politics, to get enough power to stifle the news about the murders he'd commit. It wasn't a matter of if, but a matter of when. And while I knew I would never be able to take a life, never once would I lift a hand to prevent _him_ from doing it.

Gaz was my sister, the only family I'd ever had. No matter what my genes or Professor Membrane said, we'd always be siblings. And even though Gaz never expressed her appreciation that I was here for her still, I knew that she did. Just like I never let up on my paranormal blabberings, but she still knew I'd drop all of it if she needed me. I already had done that, anyways. I'd given up chasing and exposing Zim- _Zim_, the bane of my existence and my sworn arch-nemesis- all for her. And she'd had to give up so much more than just a suddenly petty fued.

I couldn't resent my former father enough for all of this.

I sighed, sitting up. I definitely wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. And I hadn't left this stinkin' house since we'd gotten here a week ago. I needed some fresh air or something. Just . . . go outside for a little bit. Where was Zim? I mean, it wasn't a strict rule that we weren't allowed to leave the base, but, I might as well check with him to make sure. We couldn't really be to careful right now, could we?

I got up, throwing on some outdoor clothes. Geez, what month was it even now? January? February? Screw all of this 'sense-of-time' crap. It just made you realize how easy it was to lose something in such a short amount of time.

Of course, this is the time the red lights starting flashing in the base, a sound far too similar to that of an evacuation siren. Like a hurricane was on its way. But I was smart enough to know that whatever could be coming was far worse than any natural disaster.

I bolted out of my bed, shoving some jeans on over my boxers and darting out the door. Zim was already in the hallway, hands flying across the keyboard. Gaz's door was wide open and from this angle, I couldn't see her, and began fearing the worse. But a few seconds later with a blanket draped around her shoulders she emerged, standing warily next to her doorframe. A finalized beep rang out on the controls in front of Zim, and what I assumed was a live image appeared above the keyboard.

Hovercrafts.

_Blue_ hovercrafts.

I felt my stomach drop into my stomach.

"Membrane," I hissed, tasing bile just for saying that bastard's name,

Zim's antennae went flat against his head. "We need to get out of here."

He immediately began doing something, and I thought I heard the word "override" somewhere in their. Instinctively, my eyes shot to my sister, who had suddenly become paler than ever. Unhealthy pale. Her wings were quivering, vibrating almost. I wasn't sure if that was supposed to be threatening or frightened, but either way, something was wrong.

"_He found me_," she muttered simply, bowing her head slightly. "_Of course he did. He'll always find me, won't he . . .?_"

My eyes narrowed. "Gaz-?"

"Dib!" Zim snapped, interrupting me, shooting me a venomous look full of supremity. "Get your sister into the ship, now! I've got to finish taking down the house. It will follow us when I've decompressed it. Don't worry about your things- They'll be transported without incident as well."

"Why the rush?" I questioned, as I wrapped my arm around my sister's shouders. "I thought you said we'd have plenty of time?"

"Those are _hovercrafts_, Dib." Zim spat, irritated with the arguing as he continued to do whatever urgently to the house. "And they're moving quickly! We only have an estimated twenty minutes now, not the two hours I was expecting to have! Now stop arguing and _go_!"

Without needing any further prompting, I quickly led Gaz into the garage we hadn't been in since we got here. Gir was screaming and running up and down the hallways, nearly tripping both of us. I heard a sharp order from Zim that wasn't spoken in English, and, so abrupt that it even kind of freaked me out, Gir went stalk-still and collapsed onto the floor, eyes a dull grey. Gaz, too, seemed unnerved by the action, and I literally had to push her a little to get her moving again.

I opened the top of the Voot Runner, knowing full-well how to operate them from my time spent studying them. Stalking Zim for the majority of my life was really starting to pay off. I helped Gaz in, even making sure that her blanket was secure before placing my hands on her shoulders, locking eyes with her seriously.

"Stay here, okay?" I pleaded, smiling at her as best as I could. "I'm going back to grab Gir from the hallway real quick. I'll be right back, okay?"

On most occasions, Gaz probably would've hit me if I spoke to her like a child. But the disturbing thing was, she was still muttering to herself, too quick and low for me to understand. Which was further unnerving by the fact I was standing right in front of her, and should've been able to hear anything she said. It was almost like a hum, a steam of words I couldn't understand. Zim's loud curse broke me out of my trance of bafflement, and I reluctantly released Gaz to hurry back into the hallway. Gir still lay unmoving, but there was a stream of data in neon-blue shooting across the middle of his eyes. None of it was comprehendable to me, considering even if I _did_ read Irken, I probably couldn't do it that fast. Zim never even glanced in my direction, and I felt the house shudder, once. My eyes widened as I realized why he wanted us to hurry so quickly, besides the obvious.

He was going to collapse the house.

And he was going to do it while we went into orbit.

I snatched Gir off the floor, racing back into the Voot Runner, surprised to feel so relieved when I saw Gaz still sitting there. For some reason, I half-expected her to have disappeared. But no, indeed, she was right where I left her. I threw Gir in the back, my hands darting across the vaguely familiar keys as I started up the ship for Zim. The faster we got out, the better.

Zim seemed to have heard me, as a few seconds later, the roof parted, allowing me access to take off. Of course, I didn't. Maybe the old me would've left Zim to rot, but like I said, we were both allies right now. And allies didn't pull that kind of crap. A few minutes later, the house shuddered again. We didn't feel it though, since we were now hovering about a foot off the ground. It was weird, seeing everything around you shake while you didn't budge an inch. Zim came tearing down the hallway and I scooted over, allowing him room to jump inside, which he did, without breaking a stride. His hand slammed briefly down on another button, closing the hatch.

And then we were fully airborn.

Briefly, from our ever-ascending height, I saw the house shuddering, and prayed that it wouldn't trigger some sort of earthquake that would lead Membrane to us or let him know we'd been here. But the base was already folding into itself, like it had never been there to cause trouble in the first place. Gaz's wings were brushing against my arm, and I realized she was fidgeting, desperately trying to enfold them tighter against herself. I wanted to help, but, to be honest, I wasn't sure how. And so, to make her more comfortable, I pretended not to notice.

"Where are we going?" I demanded, breathlessly. Panic did that to me sometimes.

Zim's focus never wavered from the controls. "Further back. I was aware of the risks of staying in the same state, but I'd hoped it'd be enough. We're moving to the other side of the country entirely. If that fails, a new continent, and from there to a remote, uncharted island. We'll got on the entire opposite side of the world if we have to. Even to my base in the stars, if necessary."

"So running," Gaz noted, still speaking in that queer tone of voice. "Forever."

Zim shot her a sympathetic look, briefly. "Not forever. Just until the search dies down."

"_Will it_?" She asked, to the window, more to herself than us.

Zim and I shot each other looks, unsure of what to say to her right now. We both nodded, deciding mutually to just remain silent. Sometimes, there was nothing you could say. Now was one of those times.

There were more pressing matters to pay attention to anyways.

"Zim!" I barked out, seeing something in the window. "I think we have less time than we thought!"

"Eh?" He demanded, looking in the same direction. His antennae went limp against his head. "Oh sweet Irk."

An army. That was the most simple word to describe to the sight rising above the clouds before us. A whole fleet of blue hovercrafts, staring us down from both flanks, underestimating how fast we were moving and thankfully unable to appear directly in front of us. The only way to go was forward. We were entirely surrounded. Zim's hand began hitting various things, and I could vaguely feel our speed increasing.

Gaz leaned against me, hand gripping my forearm, as if needing to steady herself. I wrapped my hand around her waist, making her duck down and put her head between her legs. If they shot at us, which I had no doubt they would, they at least wouldn't hit her. Smart as Gaz was tactically, she wasn't used to space-ships. This was going to be all Zim and I. Working as a team. If the situation hadn't been so urgent, the thought might've disgusted me.

"On your left." I informed him, seeing a scattered amount of the fleet beginning to catch up to us. I peered closer as a growing light caught m eye. "They're charging their weapons!"

"They won't hit us," he growled, pushing the speed-lever even further.

I could feel the pressure trying to pin me to my seat now, and Gaz groaned a little. Obviously in her weakened state (however recovered she might be, she was still wasn't exactly 100%) she'd be feeling it harder. I didn't have the time right now to feel bad for her fully, but I did rub her back reassuring as I scanned the window over her. They'd dropped behind us dramatically.

"I think we're losing them," I informed him. I scowled. "Spoke too soon."

"Damn these ships!" Zim hissed, his hand on the gear once again. Then, he paused, a queer look coming into his eyes. The wicked grin that followed was not one that made my stomach feel any better.

"Count to five out loud for Zim. And hold onto your sister," he ordered, calmly. Far too calm for what the situation deserved. My nerves made me feel like every pin-prick in my body had gone red-hot, my neck and cheeks flaming with panic.

"One." I swallowed, feeling Gaz tense next to me, my hand now resting securely on her spine and the opposite side of her waist.

"Two." I said, while hurriedly strapping Gaz and I into our seats, tugging on the line to ensure its security. Zim's fingers twitched on the lever and another one, reaching up so that he had both securely in his hands.

"Three."

Gaz shuddered and I ducked along with her, holding her against my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

"Four."

I peaked one eye open, watching Zim as I forced out the last word. "F-Five!"

Zim gave a great tug on the top grip, forcing it downwards at the same time he pulled the gear_ backwards_. Both of my eyes shot open as I sat up, gripping Gaz tighter against me than before.

That was right before the ship slammed to a halt and began plummeting towards the surface.

I wasn't sure how high we'd been, but now I prayed to anything listening that we were higher up than I'd noticed. The clouds flashed by us, and I couldn't bring myself to look up to see if we were being followed. I could barely manage to think. I think Gaz was screaming a little, but my head had gone white, my stomach doing an admirable job of trying to force its way into my throat. I could barely muster up enough thought to breathe as we fell, the Voot slowly rotating with every air current it hit. I was glad I'd had the forsight to buckle up when we found ourselves briefly upside down before Zim manuevered the wings spin us upright again.

I thought I was going to vomit then and there.

To my horror, and to only make the situation worse, I then saw a flash of blue charging after us from above. The pressure in my earsand forehead was killing me, but I hear Zim's growl ring out in the confines of the ship. Somehow he had the breath to swear, but quickly flashed a grin as he whipped his head around us. I did the same, but at a snails pace, not willing to see my lunch a second time.

Once again, we were surrounded. Or we would be, as soon as we stopped. Our dive- or, well, free-fall had given them the time to make a proper formation. We now had a halo above our heads, soon to be a belt around our waists the second we stopped. Which, considering how quickly the sky was funneling past us, I hoped would be soon. Anything to stop this awful feeling. Gaz was still screaming, but she was starting to choke on it, and I began to worry.

"Zim!" I somehow managed to shout.

His eyes remained intent, focused, already knowing what it was I wanted. "Not yet!"

"But!" I looked down I could see the ground now, the forest beneath us slowly growing in size.

All Zim did was let the top lever go. The ship rocked, briefly, and Zim's hands shot to the steering holsters to ensure we didn't spin at 180 degrees again. We didn't. Gaz was wheezing. I thought she was going to throw up. Not that I'd blame her. If she didn't, I would, if we didn't stop soon. This was so much worse than eardrums popping during the takeoff of a plane. This was the Tower of Terror ride crashing to it's doom at a thousand times the height. Never ending suffering.

. . . Oh god, I was going to be sick.

"Count down from five!" Zim barked, hands still on the wheel.

How the absolute _fuck_ did he think I could do that? I could barely breathe! But I had to. I knew if I didn't, we were going to hit the floor. At the speed this thing was plummeting, I doubted we'd make it out as much more than a smear in a crater with the radius of a football field.

"Five!" I shouted, feeling the velocity tugging at my cheeks, making the skin want to rise. "Four!"

If we got out of this, I was never going to countdown to anything. Ever. Again.

"Three!"

I mean, the end of a sports game? Nope. I could damn well just wait for the buzzer. The numbers could fuck themselves.

"Two!"

New Years could go to hell too! I will look at my damn clock! I don't need the television for anything!

"ONE!"

Zim's hand force the gear to max speed as the tallest of trees rushed past our heads, missing us by barely a foot. The ship jolted forward, and I realized Zim's plan as he began manuevering at impossible speeds through the forest. No one could make a formation in this without casualties. And they didn't have Irken technology, meaning they'd have had to pull up at least fifty feet or so ago to not be killed on impact. Which made it incredibly likely we'd already shot past the front of their ring again.

In the forest, we might actally have the advantage.

Zim was mad.

But I had to hand it to him- he sure knew how to act like a soldier.

I nearly screamed as he spun around when we broke into a large clearing, firing several shots and setting the forest behind us on fire. It spread quickly for the wet season, but I didn't doubt that it had more to do with what was hitting the forest than the forest itself. Irkens were made to destroy things. Their weapons were probably designed specifically to do the exact same thing.

Even still, as he spun us back around with only a few seconds before we hit the trees again, I saw at least several ships break through the flames, licking at the exterior but not quite catching. A series of percussion-based shudders let us know that at the speed they had to go to keep up with us, at least twelve or so hadn't been able to stop or pull up, and had barreled into the line of trees and flame, only to catch their engines or wings and explode. Maybe I should've felt bad for the lives lost, but I couldn't stop myself from wishing Membrane was aboard one of the fleet that had blown up. Doubtful, since Membrane would want only the best pilot available to him to drive. But hey, a guy can dream, right?

Zim's hand briefly brushed across something to the side, sliding it across the window into my face. Another flick of his wrist let a square image of our back appear in my face.

"How many?" He asked, through gritted teeth.

My eyes flew, running on adrenaline. I didn't need to hear specifics to know what he wanted. "Seventeen. But there had to be at least thirty. You've kill about half of them with that little stunt."

He growled, "That's not enough to fight. Hold on again."

"What're you-?"

The scream that tore through my throat was entirely justified. It mingled with my sister's, still held securely against my side, as he spun the ship clockwise, shooting behind him from what I could see on the screen still in front of me. It really might've been impressive, considering he still had to steer around the trees, but I was going out of my mind too much to be even remotely impressed with the skill.

Several more thunderous waves rocked the ship dangerously, making Zim spin back around properly and steer again. I counted, winded, but not needing the order.

"Thirteen!" I gasped out. Gaz was positively shivering beside me, and I rewrapped the blanket around her, tucking it around her legs and body. She was suddenly freezing, which wasn't surprising, considering what we were doing.

"Son of a slorgbeast!" He screeched, making a hard right as we approached a solid mountain. I could practically feel the belly of the ship carressing the solid mountain, looking in the screen to see all of the ships curving sharp turns. Still, some didn't quite make it, and their spinners chipped the walls, sending them careening off-balance in the opposite direction.

"Eleven," I informed him, gritting my teeth. I'm pretty sure he'd pulled the ship in every angle in the geometric scale. Right now we were at an easy 90. Definitely not as bad as the 180, but really, we were making these seatbelts live up to their function.

Zim stayed as close to the mountain as he could for as long as he could before jolting unexpectedly to another halt and diving downwards again. But thankfully, it was more of a nose-dive than a free-fall, considering the engines were still on. The ships shot overhead, past us, though the one unfortunate enough to hit our roof sparked and ignited, plummeting towards the nearer ground and skidding, creating a scar in the forest floor before slamming into a tree, effectively stopping. Some five odd people made their way out before it hit the engine and exploded like the rest.

_Ten!_ My mind rang out, automatically.

But it died in my throat before it even made its way to my tongue.

The impact sent us spinning as well. Though undamaged, at the speed that thing was going, the slight tap was more than enough to make us roll like a top. Gaz's screams were starting to fall on deaf ears, but her nails digging into my shirt rang loud and clear. I gritted my teeth against the pain, unable to close my eyes now as we spun. Zim was struggling to control the ship, angling us safely upwards, to prevent us from running into anything.

But it was too straight.

Even at this speed, I knew our angle was clear. We were fair game. Any marksmen worth his pay could've made that shot.

And they did.

The ship slammed left with the impact, sending all of us into the back of our seats. Zim cried out the loudest, one hand going to his PAK. Gaz's breath caught in her throat at seeing that, both of us fearing the worst. Shaky hands tried to control the ship and my instincts took over. I did the stupidest thing I probably could've done that the moment.

I unbuckled my seatbelt.

I released Gaz and pulled Zim towards me at the same time, jumping over him and ripping him possibly painfully from his seatbelt. For a terrifying, bowel-emptying moment, no one drove the ship, and we spun harder than ever. But somehow I managed to get into Zim's pilot seat, shooting the thrusters directly forward, seeing spots in my eyes. I'd hit my head on something, but really, in a spinning ship without anything strapping me down, I was lucky it was just that. I still wasn't strapped down, actually, but right now my priority was just getting this damned thing _still_.

Shots continued reigning at us, but at the dramatic veer caused when Zim didn't have his hands on the wheel, we were at least out of immediate range again. I somehow managed to pull us upright again, skimming just along the tops of the brush.

"Are you alright?" Gaz demanded urgently.

Zim grunted. "I am . . . fine! . . . Just a . . . small sprain . . . in my spinal area . . .! PAK needs . . . to heal it!"

"How long?" I shouted out, seriously, sending us on 45 degree angle and curving left. I had to dig my feet into the side of the ship and the bottom to keep myself from tumbling around again.

"Five minutes, max!" He gasped out, gripping around the general area the back of his ribcage. " . . . Can you . . . hold out that long?"

I grinned slowly, the madness of realizing I was now in full control of a real, working, and fully functional spacecraft finally beginning to dawn on me. "I guess . . . We'll just have to see, won't we?"

My hand hit the thruster, shooting us at a far less reasonable pace again. Zim's hand reached across my torso, gripping the slightly stretched seatbelt and securing it at my hip.

How considerate. My mind mocked automatically. I kept it to myself though, spitting out a "thanks" briefly as I let my feet go back on the ground, preparing myself for a different manuever. Zim simply nodded. I could see Gaz peering at him worriedly, then looking at me, her eyes widening.

"Your head is bleeding!" She shrieked.

I grunted, resisting the urge to cringe as I felt the blood trickle down my neck and being to pool at my collar. "Eh. I've had worse."

"I can confirm this!" Zim offered, his hand shooting in the air like he was an eager student answering a teacher's question. Right after though he winced, crumpling into himself in pain. Gaz glared at both of us.

"We'll get it checked later!" I shouted, exasperated. "We've got more pressing matters right now, don't you think, sis?"

She full-on scowled at me, but then Zim winced again, winking at me discreetly, and he had her attention once more. We could hear the whirring of his PAK doing whatever it was to fix his tendons, or whatever had been damaged. Did he even have tendons? I shook the thought off.

"Hold on!" I ordered, giving more warning than Zim did. Or less, depending on your opinion. I wasn't about to 'countdown' again though, that was for sure.

I set my jaw as we arced in a tight circle, putting us directly over our assailants and coming up behind them. Zim's eyes widened. He probably hadn't thought of that one before. His hands shakingly flew to the buttons in front of him, setting off several forms of weaponry while I used the rapid-fire shot attached to the wheel.

_Five._

"Come on, come on," I muttered to myself as the ships parted, manuevering smoothly. I had to hand it to them- they were good pilots to not all have been killed or landed by now. But that only meant that now, I was dealing with the_ Best_. Capital B, enunciated. The best Membrane Labs, and probably the whole world, had to offer for pilots.

And I wasn't so sure I could handle all of them at once.

Three were now on my right, and two on my left, attempting to angle themselves to face me so they could fire at me. The things about these hovercrafts was they were more for "Search-and-Rescue" than for combat. Only three of the five, I could tell, were fightercrafts. The other two were more for getting into tight spaces, to get something or someone out of a sticky situation. Hence the need for a skilled pilot- if you had to manuever through a rocky cave in hurricane winds, you'd damn well better know what you were doing, right?

Zim's finger pointed left. "Curve that way!"

"Are you_ crazy_?" I shouted at him, resisting the urge to sarcastically correct myself. "We'll run right into them!"

"They'll move!" He shrieked back. "And if they don't, just level the ship again! It can take more than this!"

"Yeah, cause that was _sooo_ easy!" I snapped, doing what he said regardless as I flicked my head towards him, indicating the blow I'd recieved for my actions. He rolled his eyes at me, grunting as a loud whir from his PAK hit him.

I ignored him then, paying more attention to my piloting than the annoying alien beside me. My sister hadn't said a word, nor had she tried to touch him. Not that there was anything she could do to help anyways.

We did in fact hit a fightercraft, but it managed to level itself out. Obviously more skilled than his companion. And at any rate, we'd only bumped heads, so to speak. They'd both reacted quickly, having seen the move beforehand and being ready for it.

It was then I noticed it; a ship hanging back, above us, that I previously hadn't seen. It looked as though it was trying to be descreet, an observer, the spectator, rather than an actual player.

And unlike the others, it was white.

"Membrane," I growled, finishing the curve.

_Six._

* * *

Okay, this was originally one whole chapter. But seriously you guys, this thing was almost 10,000 words by the time I was done, so the second half of this will be posted next week.

Sorry for the unintentional cliff-hanger!

~Echo


	32. Part 2

Okay.

So, last time, we left off with Membrane showing up out of nowhere.

Like I said, originally this was just a whole chapter, so sorry for the awkward transition. It was the best I could find.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 32  
Part 2**

"Dib." Zim warned.

I said nothing.

"It's obviously a trap, you moron!" Gaz barked out, sounding more like herself than she had all week. "Why else would he show up now, at the peak of the fight?"

Still, not a word as I raced over the forest, my fingers drumming the handles, debating.

"Damn it, Dib, just run!" She shouted, fist slamming in frustration against the seat.

With reluctance and a brief moment to squeeze my eyes shut, I did just that.

We took off in the exact opposite direction, no doubt making the watching Professor Membrane accuse us of being the cowards we were acting like. I decided that I could give a damn what he thought anyways as the remaining hovercrafts began chasing after us. I could see in the rearview screen that Membrane, too, was following, at a distant pace.

_Watching over us like a father,_ I mused, bitterly. _How considerate__ of him!_

They began firing again, and I curved, not risking going into the trees. Maybe Zim had the piloting skills to manuever the forest, but I sure as hell didn't. It wasn't even a lack of confidence thing. As much as I hated to admit it, I just wasn't as good as he was in this division of skill. With me driving, we'd have to slow down considerably, and we'd either crash or get shot down. Either way, we'd be insanely easy targets.

And despite Zim's confidence in his ship, I didn't know how many more times this thing could be hit before we were grounded.

"I think I can drive now," Zim said, his voice still tight, but looking more determined.

I nodded as his hands took over the wheel as we awkwardly exchanged places, unbuckling, him having to stand up slightly as I slid underneath him before he slid back to the left. Gaz snickered at our uncomfortable demeanor. She remained pointedly ignored.

It was this moment, with neither of us completely in control of the ship, that we were once again fired at.

It was a solid hit on the engine.

We were all screaming at that point as we took a spinning nose-dive towards a clearing. But considering how close I'd been, we didn't have time to pull up. And then we screamed louder as the ground disappeared into an enormous trench. Zim managed to steer us upright but no amount of pulling or pressing was making the ship start up again. I started to join in frantically as we dove downwords, approaching the lake at the bottom rapidly.

And speaking of rapid.

Rough water greeted us as we dove right through the surface of the water, slammed violently in the underwater currents. I feared leaks as sharp rocks spun past us before we resurfaced, thankfully upright.

"Shit!" I hissed, touching the back of my head gingerly, wincing in pain.

Zim grunted as the water pushed us back and forth, shoving like it was some kind of game, neither side wanting us in their territory. We were forced to ride the rough currents, gripping the seats and bracing our feet against the floor to keep us from slamming into one another. The _last_ thing I needed right now was to knock heads with somebody.

"Oh my god," Gaz reached across me, grabbing Zim's arm. "Zim, we need to get out of here. Now!"

"We can't!" He snapped, frustrated. "The ship's wet! The engines won't start!"

"Well than strap yourselves back in!" She barked, pointing forward. "Look!"

We did. And if anyone had pissed themselves then, I would have understood completely.

The wide lake surrounding us disappeared. It just didn't exist anymore, but the woods could still be seen. Like we were looking over a cliffside. Which could obviously only mean one thing.

Waterfall.

"HOLD ONTO SOMETHING!" Zim shrieked, buckling himself in hurriedly before bracing himself as best as he could. I did the same, gripping my sister and tucking my head, squeezing my eyes shut. My ears began ringing, and sound started to become muted. Almost peaceful.

And ironically, I began counting down in my head again.

_. . . Five . . . __. . . Four . . ._

The rocks lessened, and the current smoothed out. Gaz burried her head further into my chest.

_. . . Three . . ._

Zim's head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut, muttering something to himself through tight lips.

_. . . Two . . . ._

I closed my own eyes as I hugged Gaz tightly, kissing her on the forehead, like a goodbye. I could've sworn she was crying.

_. . . One . . ._

And we tipped over.

The second time we'd been in free-fall today.

Compared to the last fall, this one was extremely quick. But the impact was harsh, slamming us an uncountable amount of feet into the water before propelling us back upwards. Zim and I hit sides, briefly, but I kept Gaz safe from hitting the wall on her side by propping my foot up, taking most of the impact, if not all of it. My ankle sprouted with pain immediately afterwards, and I had a feeling I might've broken something in it. Though, that might've just been the immediate pain. Hopefully it would go away, with a little time. For a terrifying moment, we started spinning on our side, to the point I thought we were going to capsize entirely.

We surfaced.

I was relieved to find us no longer in a river, but a lake, drifting quickly towards the dirt by the current. My grip on Gaz slackened slightly, tightening when we were shoved to shore. It rocked once, but we were fine.

Zim sighed, hitting a button and opening the hatch. It sputtered, sparked, and protested, but it opened, and I unstrapped myself before helping my sister do the same, wincing when I put a normal amount of pressure on it. Not broken, but, I needed a minute.

"We lost them, at least," Gaz muttered optimistically, ripping a large amount of her blanket before taking my face gingerly in her hands, bowing it so she could bandage my head. "Until we get something better, okay?"

"Okay," I grunted, through gritted teeth. It hurt, the pressure, but it also felt good to know I wasn't bleeding out all over my clothes anymore. I then noticed her discreetly rip off another piece. "What's that for?"

"I just hurt my wrist a little," she muttered, wrapping it clumsily around said body part.

Zim bent down, a still strangely-docile Gir falling off his shoulder next to him, face-down in the mud. He took the wrap from her, tying it quickly and easily, securing it with a knot before slicing the extra bit off with a PAK leg. He then helped her to her feet by her waist, picking up Gir again and motioning towards the woods.

"Come on." He ordered. "We've got to get moving."

"Where exactly are we going?" I demanded back as we all hurriedly made our way into the thicket. "We don't have a ship anymore!"

"It's decompressing right now." He replied, hurriedly. "It'll then be retrieved by the base, fixed, and back in working order within several hours."

"We _don't_ have several hours!" I snapped. "They could be here any minute-!"

"I KNOW!" He shouted, sending all of us to a halt. He breathed heavily, eyes furious, illuminated by a burning hatred I'd never seen. But somehow, despite his pointed glare, I couldn't make myself believe it was for me. "You think Zim does not realize how dire our situation is? That I am not aware we are being hounded by five elite pilots, who are members of Membrane's labs? I am aware of this, stupid dirt-child! I am aware that we are quickly losing our advantage here! I KNOW THAT I HAVE FAILED!"

A few birds flew off at his second scream. No one really looked at them. His ragged breathing was seemingly endless, his whole body inflating and deflating with every rapid breath. He then proceeded to bury his face in his hands, falling to his knees before bending towards the floor. Heavy shudders shook him. For a shocking moment, I thought he was crying. But instead, I realized he was just slightly hysterical with anger.

Gaz slowly made her way towards him, and I resisted the urge to hold her back from the unstable alien on the floor, knowing he wouldn't hurt her. It twisted my stomach to know this, but I did. And we were losing ground and burning moonlight. Zim needed to get up, _now_. With a yesterday kind of urgency about it.

"Zim," she murmured, touching his head, kneeling on one knee. "It's not your fault."

He ignored her.

"Zim," she repeated, more sternly. "This is not your fault. Remember? If it's anyones, it's his, right? Not ours. Just his."

He slowly relaxed, taking another deep breath. I had no idea what they were talking about, and was slightly disturbed they'd had secret, private discussion. But I could worry about that later. If it got him up, I might even let her kiss him. Maybe.

. . . Probably.

Zim sat up, reaching into his PAK and pulling out some very indescreet weapons. He held them out to both of us.

"Running is futile now," he announced, simply. "We have to kill them."

"A fleet of six." I calculated. "That's roughly thirty people, depending on whether or not Membrane comes down as well. Then it's only about 25."

"Only," Gaz snorted, examining the piece. "How much fire power does this thing have?"

"Enough to stun with one shot. Enough to kill with two." Zim replied, pulling out something of his own. Again, he muttered something in Irken.

And suddenly Gir was sitting up, red text now flying across his eyes.

"An emergency function I installed last month," he muttered. He took a deep, hard breath. "He will shut down after this."

The silence that followed was pregnant.

"Wait, Gir will turn off_ permanently_?" I demanded, stunned.

Zim couldn't look at us. He just nodded.

"_Why_?" I pressed, unable to comprehend. Zim would give up Gir- _Gir_, his most trusted companion since before he'd even come to Earth!- just to keep the two of us safe?

"Because I had to," he said, simply, stoically. I glanced at Gir, now standing at attention next to his master. "His wiring is too delicate to run again after this. I'd need a whole system reboot. And I don't have those kinds of things to fix him anymore."

"How long will it last?" Gaz asked, quietly.

"A week, under the best conditions." He replied, almost sadly, turning to look at the robot that was anything but Gir's usual spastic attitude. "With this kind of fight, depending on how long though, I'd estimate a few days. Max."

Gaz shook her head in disbelief, her hand touching his shoulder again as she stared at the robot. ". . . Zim, I . . . I can't even-."

And that's when the hovercrafts shot over us.

They quickly circled back around, towards where we sat. Considering we still hadn't reached the denser woods, it wasn't too much of a find. Although Zim's ship had disappeared (or, decompressed, whatever) without us seeing, we weren't so hard to miss sitting on the bank.

I immediately fired upwards, spastically. Gaz soon followed, preventing immediate landing. Heading into the woods solved that problem easily enough for them though, and the three of us aimed into the underbrush, preparing ourselves for the oncoming battle. They began appearing through the trees, walking briskly towards us, shouting for our willing surrender.

"Gir," Zim said, in a low tone, leveling his weapon to his eyes. "Fetch."

And suddenly the little robot, harmless Gir, was emptying weapons from his head and shooting forward with the rockets on his feet, barreling into the line of fire. The shots seemed to bounce off of him, hitting trees and cutting them down as they went through at that speed, toppling them and almost creating a barrier around us. Unfortunately, we were then also blocked from the view, and I saw Zim's eyes widen, his gun dropping in his panic for the moment.

"GIR!"

A blast sent us all skidding backwards and firing aimlessly ahead of us, at least a dozen people now charging towards the three of us.

It was this moment I was wholly convinced we were all going to die.

* * *

We were quite a sight, I imagined.

One of us with a bloody bandage made of blanket-strips wrapped around his head, a petite girl with said blanket tied around her waist*, looking paler than ever, with her wrist bandaged, and a green alien with lazered PAK-legs extended from his back. Not to mention the robot running rampad somewhere. I tried not to think about Gir though. My stomach was already churning at the thougt Zim had given up his best friend, permanently, just to keep his promise to Dib and I. And really, probably more me than Dib. Annoying as he as, Gir could get under your skin that way.

But, I guess he never would again, would he?

Years of gaming had honed my firing skills impressively. But with a shitty wrist, I wasn't currently as good of a marksmen as I had the potential to be. I hit several people, using the trigger twice in succession meticulously. I could hear screams from the forest, as well as an automatic going off rapidly. With the earlier blast though, I was fearing the worst for Gir's current state.

And it wasn't like they weren't shooting back.

Dib cried out as he was forced to duck, avoiding several lazers. Zim and I did our best to keep ourselves stationed as we could but we couldn't get all of them while dodging ourselves. And that was just the thing, wasn't it? Four of us, maybe three now, versus at least twenty-five. We couldn't get all of them. We could _never_ get all of them.

It went quickly downhill from there.

Using the distraction to its advantage, a fightercraft appeared from over the waterfall. Zim turned his PAK legs backwards to shoot at it, but it was wildfire. He couldn't properly aim without turning his head, leaving his front wide-open. And he hit, but then, he also missed more. And more people, about ten, double what we estimated per ship, came streaming out, guns equally ablaze as their counterparts in front of us.

No one shot us, but we were all taken down one by one, no matter how hard we fought.

"RELEASE ME!" I heard Zim shriek as several large men pinned him to the floor.

Only one was needed to hold me, and three Dib for. I was weak, and no matter how hard I struggled, I wasn't that hard to contain. Dib and Zim on the other hand were wild. And they kept struggling until a familiar voice rang out.

"I think that will be enough for today!"

No one could help but stop to burn holes through the figure that descended from the white fightercraft that had landed behind the first, another seven or so soldiers in white and black- again unlike their blue-clothed companions- marched behind him. Anyone not securing the three of us saluted. The one holding me was able to stand erect, pulling me from the floor to stand on shaky, now muddied legs. I'd been wearing shorts and a t-shirt. I was now cursing my lack of forsight, shivering violently and whipping my head back and forth to try and get my hair out of my eyes.

My _escort_ seemed to take that as struggling, as did Zim and Dib, and then they too were fighting again, causing more trouble than before. Zim was spitting so many curses it made _me_ cringe at the foulness. Someone tazered him, making me scream out and jerk towards him, pulling painfully at my shoulders before I watched him collapse to his knees, shaking violently, but obviously fighting any further reaction. Even when it stopped, he still shook, unable to do anything as they bound him.

"I suppose it was only a matter of time before we came face-to-face again, wasn't it?" Membrane announced, though without any of the smugness the sentence deserved. He acted like he was still at his beloved press conference's, gracing the little people with his presence. Being what I was, his creation, he probably considered me less than that.

He came forward until he was about a foot from me, after which I lunged at him. I was quickly pulled back, but at least I managed to spray him with the loose mud on my legs. I noticed his wrist was bound in some sort of metal cast, and heard Zim's growl of satisfaction behind me. I wondered what had happened, briefly, but I was too busy loathing the man in front of me to really figure it out.

"You will rot in Hell," I hissed, the venom practically dripping from my tongue, mingling with my saliva. I decided to wait for a better time to spit on him, and wondered, briefly, if it would sting.

His brow rose at my severe tone. "You're the mutant here. Why should a _human_ be the one cast from Heaven's gates?"

Zim's screech of fury rang clear, and though weak, he still struggled. "YOU FILTHY HUMAN! THE SECOND I AM FREE, YOU ARE DEAD! _**DEAD**_!"

"Such colorful friends you have," Membrane noted, looking back to me as I tore my gaze from Zim. "I wonder if he's as colorful on the inside as he is on the outside."

I froze.

_He didn't mean . . . Because Zim wasn't wearing his disguise . . ._

"_Oh my god_," I breathed, looking through Membrane as terrible images flashed in my head. "NO!"

"What did you say?" Dib shouted, from his place, restrained. "WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HER?"

"Oh, yes, hello, son." He said, nodding at him.

"GO TO HELL!"

"My, I seem to be getting so many invations there," Membrane muttered, amused. He then looked back to me. "Now, what were you fussing about again? Ah, yes. Your little _foreign friend_."

"How long have you known?" I demanded, through my teeth.

"Since he attacked me without his disguise, in my labs, saving _you_." He lifted his hand, the casted one. "I really must thank him for that. A week in the autopsy room should suffice, shouldn't it?"

"Don't touch him," I snapped. Then I looked down, defeated. "_Please._"

"What do you think you have to offer that I don't already have?"

I looked him dead in the eye. "Me."

There was a pause. And then everyone within earshot was laughing, pitying disbelief in their gazes.

"I don't think you understand your situation," my former parent mocked, kindly.

"No,_ you_ don't understand." I spat, determinedly. "If I die, your the laughing stock of your company, right? And you'll have to admit to the world that your experiment, the one the media's been in an absolute frenzy over for weeks, _failed_. That you, Professor Membrane, _failed_. Isn't that right, _Dad_?"

His eyes narrowed, sensing the danger. "What are you implying?"

"I'll kill myself," I hissed, all seriousness in my tone. It radiated to my core, and I realized just how true it would be. "If I have to starve myself, bash my head against my cell until I bash my brains in, or dig my own eyes out with my nails, I'll do it. I swear to God I'll do it!"

"Gaz," Dib whimpered, having been brought up behind me with Zim. They could both hear me. But I couldn't bring myself to look at either of them.

"We'll restrain you." Membrane said, simply. "We'll put you in a padded cell and give you an IV if we have to."

"You'd give me a needle?" I demanded, a brow rising.

"You'll be monitored."

"And what happens to that lazy, eager intern, whose too incompetant to pay attention to the girl that never does anything anyways?" I inquired, with too much insinuation for it to be an innocent question. "Staring at a freak all day can get boring like any other thing. Especially when done repetitively. Whose to say what would happen if I don't have a few minutes of monitoring? I only need a few seconds. I'll be damaged goods, at the very least."

I thought I heard a guard retching behind me. Or Dib. Either way, the images I was implanting couldn't have been pretty. Membrane looked to the person who'd gotten sick, then back at me, through narrowed eyes.

"What do you want?" He growled, for once not sounding like he was on television.

"Let Dib and Zim go." I ordered, simply. "And you'll have my full cooperation. Forever."

Membrane and I locked eyes. Even with his goggles, I could feel the connection. And I could feel the slow understanding coming between us. He'd give anything for his success. And I'd give anything to save them. Dib had run from his future for me. And Zim had already lost his best friend to this stupid fight- they were about to lose their freedom and safety for me, too.

"Let them go," he ordered, never looking away from me.

Before I could do anything, I was being hauled more securely to my feet by my arms, twisted behind my back, and forced inside his white fightercraft.

"NO! _WAIT_!" I heard my brother screaming after me. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

"GAZ! NO!"

I heard something charging up, something electric, and just able to look over the shoulder of the man moving me to see them dropped to the ground, riveted in electric-blue lights dancing across their bodies.

"STOP!" I screamed, kicking my legs out. "Stop it! Don't hurt them! Leave them alone! You said you wouldn't-!"

Someone threw me to the floor, harshly.

"You have a few minutes to say goodbye," Membrane informed me. "Use them wisely."

I didn't even bother responding to him. There wasn't a lot of time. I made my way to Dib first, who was now huddled on his side, shivering violently from the electric shock. He groaned as I pulled him to a semi-seated position, hugging him very tightly against me.

"I love you, you stupid idiot," I muttered, into his shoulder. "I want you to take care of yourself, okay? Even if it means going back to _his_ house. You promise me you won't do somthing stupid enough to end up like me."

He groaned, whimpering. "Gaz-."

"Promise me!" I snapped, pulling away, angrily.

Dib seemed only able to nod, through his shivering. I nodded back and kissed him on the forehead before moving to Zim, as equally hurried as I was with my brother. And yet, somehow, this was so much more painful.

"Zim," I said, fiddling with the clasp around my neck. "You've got to promise me you won't go after Membrane."

He growled, and several guards pointed their electric rods at him again. I finally managed to undo the clasp and let it fall from my neck before shoving it into his hands, which curled around it instantly. He stared at me in horror. I simply leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, hugging him tightly against me, just like I had Dib. But there was something essentially more important that I had to say to him then I had Dib.

"I free you from your Bond," I murmured, painful tears falling onto the collar of his shirt.

There was only deathly silence from him, something that scared me. And then he threw back his head and screamed an unholy, vile scream that rivaled even my banshee cries, back in the lab so many days ago. I was torn away from him, despite my cries of protest as he was jumped, held down as he screamed and vibrated so harshly I thought he was going to explode. Someone had me around my waist and was dragging me off, grabbing my hand and pinning that too at my side when I reached out to him.

"ZIM!" I screamed. "DON'T HURT HI-!"

I never got to finish my sentence. My cries were strangled by a needle quickly injected into my throat, choking me as something was forced into my systems. A black tunnel began clouding my vision and my own heavy, slowed breathing filled my ears.

The last thing I saw was Membrane's face looking down at me skeptically as I sank to the floor.

* * *

So, that . . . is easily the most depressing, dramatic, long chapter I've ever written. Sitting at around 9,000 words, that's 5,000 more than what I prefer per chapter. I expected this to be long. I didn't expect this monster of a chapter.

Sorry for all that text than.

For someone who hates writing action, I think I actually didn't do a bad job, considered 70% of this chapter was a air-fight. **Membrane's blue hovercrafts can be seen in the "Gaz; Taster of Pork**", outside, while Dib is trying to help her escape.

**A sneak peak of what's coming up is now posted on my Deviantart, which can be found on my profile!**

ALSO, be sure to keep updated with my youtube! I've been sick (actually, I wrote this before and after I went into my bathroom to barf), but the next chance I get, an update on this story, as well as MHNY4 will be dealt with!

Till the next chapter!


	33. Chapter 33

I'm pretty sure the title of this chapter is a game . . . Whatever. It's a pun. Gaz likes games. Maybe she played it.

I don't know.

I was thinking about making this a Pt. 2, so as not to overwhelm you guys. We'll see if I did it, yeah?

(Edit: Apparently, I did not.)

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 32  
"A Half Life"**

"_Wake up!_"

"_Lookit her!_"

Someone whistled.

"_Is that another ghost?_"

"_Isn't that-_?"

_"No! The drapes are too different!"_

"_Well I think its pretty!_"

"Quiet, you monsters! That's enough!" The guard snapped out at the cells we passed, each of them barricaded inside, separated from the hallway by a glass wall. Or, probably not glass. That would've been far too easy to break.

A white, fresh sheet had been draped across my body, roughly outlining my figure beneath it. I'd woken up to being stripped by several plain-looking women, and was then forced to be bathed meticulously before being placed on a rolling bed for transport, where I was now. I was still drugged and hadn't been able to move through any of it. I was as good as a rag-doll. Even my thoughts were sluggish and simple.

I was placed to lay on my side, since I couldn't support enough of my weight to sit up on my own. I was vaguely aware I was shivering, and something had been scrubbed thoroughly into my hair that wasn't shampoo. Every inch of me was practically glowing with 'cleanliness', probably the standard for admission around here. Or maybe I wasn't glowng. Even the starch-yellow of the lights seemed to have a warm haze.

At that point it was easy to see, even in this state of mind, that I was definitely still suffering from the effect of the drugs. (1)

The only sound anyone dared to make was breathing, and a few grunts when the cart I rested on was made to turn. Other than that, the only other sound was the increasingly slow thump of my heart, and the twisting of the wheels rolling against what I assumed was some sort of linoleum floor. It shined, like a star. But really, in my condition, I'm convinced carpet would've sparkled too.

_Where . . . am I?_

I was wheeled into a cell, although, it looked considerably nicer than the ones we'd passed. Even if they seemed shrouded in dark clouds, I could still tell the comfortable bed wasn't standard. Or maybe all of my senses were just really enhanced. But _this _enhanced? No, I was positive not all of this could be my imagination. My wings were tucked comfortable against me, relaxed, but to be honest, this was probably the most control I'd felt I'd had over them since I got them. Was that just me, or the medication?

_How long . . . was I out?_

A nurse came in, taking my arm from me and pulling an elastic band around it. It reminded me of the type the female soccer players at my school used to wear, the pre-wrap or something, to keep their hair out of their eyes. Soccer. Hadn't I just pretended to sign up for that last month? And now I was here, getting something stuck in my arm. It hurt, but it was a dull ache, more of an after-pain for the muscle than the actual prick itself.

"I'm _tired._" I moaned, eyes fighting to remain open.

"You should sleep than," the lady said, off-handedly, like this was something she said daily. I wondered why. I looked up at her, feeling a curious dullness etch across my features.

"I'm in his labs now," I said, simply. "Aren't I?"

She stopped. I don't know why, but she did, giving me time to notice the saline drip now in my arm. Strange. I'd expected morphine. Instead of answering verbally, she simply glanced at the brand on the machine. I glanced.

The label was all that answer I needed.

"The fluids will help flush the drug from your system," she informed me. She sounded like those informative, automatic instruction manuals. Even high of my ass, it wasn't pleasant to hear. "Meals will be delivered consecutively at 8:00am, 1:00pm, and 6pm, or altered according to patients needs. Snacks are available upon request. There are community bathrooms, separated by gender, and the patient is allowed to be escorted to these facilities upon request. In the event of illness or a patient becomes injured, for any reason, they are confined to quarantine in their room and asked to remain in bed. Lights in the room can be turned on and off at patient's needs, and need not worry about disturbing the other patients. Contact with other members of the sector is discouraged, but not prohibited. Further information, as well as the one already mentioned, can be found in the inpatient manual, upon request."

I blinked tiredly at her. "Where's my brother?"

She smiled at me. Or, at least, I think she did. I'm not sure. My voice was starting to slure, as was my head.

"Further information will be _available upon lucid request . . ._"

I was asleep by the time her voice drifted off into the oblivion of starch-yellow lights overhead.

* * *

_"You should have run like your life depended on it."_

_"Because, actually, in fact, it did."_

I groaned, opening my eyes. The urge to call out, 'Whose there?' was almost so instinctual, I nearly blurted it out right then and there. But I was easily able to compose myself and swallow my tongue, blinking my eyes open to examine my surroundings.

At some point, the lights in the room appeared to have been dimmed. And with this deprevation of light, the glass tinted dark as well, leaving me with a less-than-crystalline view of the hallway outside. Half of two separate cells were immediately visible across from my own, but their rooms were lit up enough for me to see them quite easily, even in my dark cave of a room, if I sat up.

Adorned in all white, they appeared relatively normal-looking people. One of them was reading a book. Another one appeared to be drawing with her back towards me. They were both possibly in their thirties, maybe the boy a few years younger. What was keeping them here? I began studying them. No visible mutations, like myself. No nervous twitches or abnormalities. What else was there?

That was when the nurses came.

They marched down the aisle, like soilders, and suddenly, the dull chit-chat I'd filtered into background noise stops, and the two people I see in front of me stop what they're doing as well. Obedient, like little trained pets, I see them scamper off to the silver filter-hole on the left side of each of their- and my- cells. I finally get a good look at their faces as they wait.

And then I understand where I am.

The smile on their faces are a sickly, over-exagerated, and yet so unmistakeable a grin. Eyes too wide. Too bloodshot to safely assume these people regularly have the appropriate amount of sleep. Just looking at them made my skin crawl.

Oh yeah. I know _exactly_ where I am.

And it was so ingenius of a hiding spot, I couldn't even feel the appropriate amount of anger due to my overwhelming sense of admiration for the idea.

"Alright, crazies!" Someone shouted, a guard. Their voices were unmistakable at this point; gruff, professional, and in no way pleasant. I wondered if those were regular, or just courtesy of my presence here. "Time for your meds!"

I could hear the sound of distribution, the opening and slamming of slots as the chatter started up again. So casual a place for a High Risk Mental Facility. Of course Membrane would place me here- it was still located in Membrane's labs, on their campus, below-ground. People weren't comfortable placing these types of psychos inside the public facilities. No, being raised by Membrane, I knew all about this place. These guys were the type of people who, let loose on a city, would take it to it's knees faster than the Joker ever could. Harmless in appearance, scary in the mind. Even I wouldn't mess with these guys.

So where better to place something _really_ freaky looking, without raising any alarms or having to build a new facility entirely? Which would be awfully odd, wouldn't it, considering Membrane supposedly had his pet project here _all along_. And really, who would believe a patient from _here_ crying out about some freaky bird-girl-thing in the house? Obviously, they'd have to be mad just to say anything. And they'd all probably just assume it was their imagination acting up again anyways. And all the workers here were paid more money than they'd make at this kind of job anywhere else. Why ruin that by blabbing madness to the press? If a person could be bought, why couldn't their silence be up for sale as well?

Like I said.

Ingenious.

"Why, that clever little bastard," I muttered, feeling a very primal instinct begin creeping up on me as the carts got closer. Would they ignore me? Or would they expect me to be taking some sort of pills as well?

I got my answer soon enough. It seemed not even all of the staff here was aware of what they held in their clutches, as the minute one of the workers began wheeling their cart towards me, a small, plastic cup of pills in tow, a nurse quickly stopped them with a pleasant smile and a light but firm grip on their shoulder.

"Not her." I heard her say, in response to their surprised expression.

They hesitated.

That was all I needed.

I lunged towards the wall, well aware of my speed, and just stood their. Staring at them through narrowed eyes, flexing my wings, and peeling my teeth back to glare at all of them. A feral snarl ripped through my throat.

Immediately they all lunged away, and at the animalistic noise, patients began crying out in fear or just making equalliy disturbing noises. I'd pulled a trigger, it seemed, as immediately the sparce noise turned into a chorus of shrieks and inmates pounding on their glass.

_So easy it is to cause a riot here,_ I noted, briefly. That might be helpful for later.

"Hello," I hissed, smiling at the man who'd attempted to hand me pills.

Said pills, along with the cup they came in, were now on the floor, having fallen from his hands the second I'd appeared- to them- quite out of nowhere in front of the glass. The woman was speaking into a walkie-talkie, moving towards a wall to hit an Emergency button. Red lights began flashing, lighting up the hallways and cells in bloody-colors at two second intervals. The man stumble backwards into the cart, obviously horrified. My wings spread out behind me, ugly as ever covered in plummage and flesh, and I made them shake like a rattlesnake's tail. Clean or otherwise, they still weren't the most attractive sight.

The scream that howled from him and the two observing inmates was priceless.

For effect, I moved to my bed and sat down, tucking my wings back into place. And I waited. Of course I hadn't triggered this mess of problems for no reason. In a cliche way, it was indeed to get the attention I wanted.

And attention was what I got.

Soon Membrane, along with a parade of guards, were walking the cells, controlling the patients one-by-one as their job dictated. Membrane walked past all of them, towards me. My cell sat at the head of a table, so to speak. And while only the two cells to my immediate sides were visible to me, I got to watch smugly as he walked towards me, hands clasped behind his back, posture perfect as ever.

He stood in front of my cell, and for a moment, just glared at me.

I glowered back.

"Where is Dib?" I demanded. He didn't say anything. I got to my feet as I made my way slowly towards him, a blatantly challenging move as I gestured to the four stories of screaming people around me, the lights and excess amount of people apparently making everything worse before it got better. "Am I not making my point clear enough? Do I need to make this_ worse_? What. Did. You. Do. With. Them?"

Every word was spat, a separate word entirely from the former. There was no mistaking my intent. I hadn't lied when I said I'd kill myself. But I'd make his life- and his facility, if I could manage it- a living Hell until I got some answers. The last I saw of them, they were chained and electrocuted in the woods while I was dragged onto a fightercraft. _Now_ where the hell were they?

"Dib is at home," he said, finally, looking down at me with an unreadable expression on his face. Even over a head taller them me, I still felt as if I was the one with the upper hand here. "I don't know where your alien friend went."

My brow rose in disbelief. "Dib is at home? With _you_?"

"As you can quite clearly see, I am not home." He corrected, harshly, goggles bunching up some of the skin over them as he glared at me. "And really, you insolent child, where did you think he was going to go? He has no resources. And I'm certainly not going to fund him gallavanting all over the world in the petty effort to run from me. I made a deal with you, and I honored it- they won't be locked up with you. They have their freedom. And I expect you to honor _your_ side of the deal as well." He added, hand holding out at his side to the mess around me.

I smiled falsely. "Oh of course, father dearest. Why would ever insinuate I'd be any trouble?"

"I'm warning you," he hissed, leaning in closer to the screen. "If you mess this up, you have _no_ idea what will go wrong!"

"I said I'd honor it!" I snapped in reply, angrily, pressing my hands flat against the glass to glare back at him. "What _else_ do you want from me?"

His eyes flicked briefly, for whatever reason, behind me. And I thought he was looking at my wings when he said, "You haven't noticed yet, have you?"

"Noticed _what_?" I demanded, cautiously.

He shook his head, removing a small mirror from nowhere. As a child, this was normal. Now, like his very existence, it was irritating. Regardless, I looked in the mirror, not entirely expecting what to see. When I did see it though, my blood went cold.

White hair.

_Long,_ white hair.

A shaking hand went to touch it. "This . . . is some sort of a wig, right?"

"No," was his calm reply. "You'll notice the eyes as well. A small pigment dye. Nothing permanent, but it will be, eventually. Some of it is extensions. You do like to keep your hair short, after all, and it would've taken too long to grow it out. What do you think?"

I let my gaze flick up to him, irritated. "I look like I just got out of a snowstorm."

"Pretty," he corrected. I wanted to slap him. "This is the image the press has conjured up. It's our job to make you look as harmless as possible for the upcoming event. And you also couldn't very well look like my little girl, could you?"

"No," I hissed, at the endearing term. "I guess I couldn't."

"Good, you're starting to get it." I imagined he wanted to pat me on the head for good behavior. "You'll be escorted to my labs for treatment on your wings. You've certainly managed to damage them thoroughly without my care. They look positively gruesome."

"They don't exactly have lotions for those kinds of things at your average flea-market." I intoned, boredly.

I had a feeling this was going to be how I dealt with things a lot from now on. Just mindless cooperation. I wasn't going to break the deal, lest he go back on his and hurt Dib, or find Zim. I vaguely wondered why they wouldn't be together, until the obvious answer hit me- Why should they? I was the link between them, after all. Or, I was. The link wasn't there anymore.

The chain had been broken.

I began to notice the noise dying down. Membrane seemed to notice too, as he once again became the pleasant, arrogant political figure that he normally was and turned to leave, back into the care of his guards as they marched behind and above him, on the separate stories. Several nurses curtsies politely as they passed, entering the room abruptly and heading towards me.

I don't remember a lot after that. Not for any means of using some sort of drug, but more of the influence of my head. I was recessing into myself. I suppose, really, that it was only a matter of time before this happened. And you don't get to call me weak for that. My inner-strength was the only reason it hadn't happened _sooner_. And I couldn't find a reason to act any other way. Any reason why I had to be strong; I didn't have anything or anyone to motivate me anymore. What was my purpose now? An eternity of servitude? How long was I supposed to survive, anyways? What if in the end, Membrane just decided to give up and scrap me anyways? With that line of thinking, I decided maybe I had made the smarter decision to become a shell of my former self.

I was aware of time passing, of my surroundings changing. But no matter what happened, it was never enough to start me out of my docile state. Not even Membrane's near-constant presence could bring a reaction out of me. I was a rag doll. A living rag doll, trapped in my own thoughts.

I thought about Zim, a lot. Where he was. Whether or not he was upset about my leaving. Whether or not he resented me for it. He'd said he'd liked me, and I'd lead him on, because I knew that memories or not, that deep-rooted emotional tie between the two of us had never left my subconscious. I almost bothered to laugh about how my absent past had once been my biggest problem. I wondered what I would've done different if I _had_ remembered everything when I'd woken up. Would we have stood a better chance? Would Dib have reacted any differently? Would any of us have changed our choices?

I imagined things probably would've been excessively complicated, on a social level. If Zim and I really were on limbo about our relationship, instead of wasting time hiding my own past from me, we probably would've wasted time trying to work out where we were going next. And hiding it from Dib, of course. I missed Dib. I missed both of them. In my head, I could imagine them as if they were still there with me though. Just us, hanging out. Sappy as it was, it would've been incredibly normal, as opposed to what I dealt with now. Which was infinite nothing.

I was aware of what others were making me do, on some level, of course. No one seemed concerned I wasn't particularly talkative and had the personality of the average wall. I was an action figure. And they were probably ecstatic about the absence of fight in me. I was the perfect test-subject, and that was all that was expected or needed of me anymore. This was my life. A thought inside an idea of a person.

And then, one day, I woke up.

Not because of anything I did, or anything I should've done. Nothing could've prepared me for the sight that was accepted into my filter of 'things to notice'. That list was short and came up far and few between what I was normally surrounded with. It was normally shiny, sharp objects that briefly made me pay attention before seeing what it was and checking out again. It was my simply existence. The most peaceful I'd ever experienced.

And apparently, someone had decided I didn't deserve peace. Not right now.

Because my story wasn't over yet.

There was still one more chapter of my life that had to be completed, fixed, and understood before peace could be obtained.

And it started with the appearance of someone I was convinced I was never going to see again. Someone I'd hoped I'd never see again, because that was simple, and that was how it was supposed to be. How my life was supposed to be from now on.

A lot of times they liked to put me in a room, with violet walls and navy tiled floors. Something I hadn't expected in my stay (for really, I had no idea how long I'd been here by now) was my training. True, it was slow progress when it required my actual participation, but if an outside force could be the one controlling my body, that was always option number one. And I obviously had no qualms about that. But with this 'training', I found something I'd believed to be impossible; the ability to retract my wings.

I didn't understand how, nor did I understand _why,_ for that matter, it ever occurred to Membrane to give me this ability. But it could be done, and for the sake of keeping the other inmates from screaming wildly every time they saw me, they normally were kept from view until I was in the privacy of his labs. I found the design for my daily outfit had been purposeful instead of an afterthought. The buttons and tie in the back made it easy for me or someone else to undo, when my wings had to be examined. Which they always had to be.

They were in fact wings by now, feathers and all. And I was sitting on the floor, on my legs, undoing the buttons myself on autopilot and pulling the string behind my neck. A few seconds later, at the sound of a beep, they flew out. Something that I was vaguely aware that was frustrating the professor was their color. Not quite black, but not quite white. Apparently, they were colored to my mood and personality, like a chameleon or a rabbit changing its fur for the seasons. But, as mentioned, I had no personality. And thus, I harbored no single color in my wings. And it irritated him to no end.

Despite my lack of derision during the whole process of this testing, a wall always separated myself and the scientists, unless it was completely necessary for someone to be in the same room as me. I supposed that given my first impression hear, the cautious and wary attitude of those around me was one they thought deserved. I'd inherited a reputation. But I suppose the wall did end up coming in handy when I saw him.

It was so unexpected. I was just sitting there, lazily flapping and unflapping one of my wings on one of my uncommon aware-days, when it happened. And I suppose I should've known by my inability to emmerse myself in my own head as easily as I normally did that my body was trying to tell me something. That something wasn't right here. But that would mean I had to be thinking primarily of the outer world, which was never an option. And I paid for it.

"Yes, yes, this way, sir! So good to have you here, sir! Most exciting indeed!"

I ignored this overexcited voice of a scientist that was so classic here. No matter how many times I was seen by these people, they were always to cheerful. It made me glad I had the ability to ignore them so easily. Vaguely, I let my eyes flick towards the door, only partially looking. The rest of me was still in my head, but a good 40% was still paying attention.

But it was that 60% that kept me from understanding why there were _two_ ridiculous hairstyles in the room instead of _one_.

"Ah, son, there you are!" Membrane shouted, hugging the the extra presence easily to him.

And finally it dawned on me.

My wings flared out, loudly displacing the air on my side of the room. It caught everyone's attention, especially _his_. And we locked eyes. Amber to false blue. He seemed genuinely surprised, like he hadn't expected to see me there. And briefly, his gaze flicked to my violently quivering wings. I felt shocked and threatened, furious that Membrane had brought him here and even more mad that he'd agreed.

Quicker, and with more effort than I'd given to anything in an infinite amount of time, I was on my feet, hands pressed agains the glass.

"Dib!"

* * *

Okay. We're in the last lapse of the story.

Everything after this is Dib-drama, without Zim for a_ reaaaaalllly_ long time (I know, I'm sad too D: ), a heart-to-heart with Membrane, and then the epilogue. This thing is a monster, and I can't wait to get this over with so I can focus on the two upcoming plots I'm working on. **My Hostage Not Yours 4** is now underway, as is a new story (that I'm making a trailer for) called **The Exorcist. **And despite the obvious negativity attributed with that simple word, is still is, in fact, a ZAGR story. Because I'm just that magical.

Trailer for that will be posted on my youtube account soon enough. I have to give it to Bumblebee though, this IZ trailer making is _HARD._ :(

Till the next chapter!


	34. Fading Like an Old Scar

Dib's side of things.

Let's see what happened on his end, shall we?

And I changed my mind. I decided to stick with my original ending, written in my outline. So read on to find what you didn't expect.

**"Lovely so lovely,  
The spark in thine eye  
No difference between,  
What is yours and what's mine  
Now, let go of my hand  
And think of me fondly  
And I'll stay with you,  
So lovely, so lovely . . ."  
- A nursery rhyme I made up when I was a kid  
I sing it to my dog to put him to sleep. It's sad, in its own way, and I feel like it fits the story.**

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 34  
"Fading Like An Old Scar"  
**

_"I've been having . . . these weird dreams lately."_

I smirked. Funny. Had I heard that from somewhere before?

"_Like, is any of this for real . . . or not?_"

"Definitely not." I confirmed, aloud, despite the fact I was talking to a videogame screen. Oh well. No one around to call me weird in my own house; Dad was still down at the labs, after all.

A little cutscene started, with some music accompanying it. I smiled. I seemed to be in an awfully good mood about things lately.

Or, at least . . . I pretended to be.

The music faded into the background, along with my smile.

Gaz . . . she'd been on the forefront of my mind, since it had happened. Even more so since I'd seen her last.

_There was so much blood._

_No there wasn't._

I looked up at the ceiling, willing the urge to vomit all over the floor away from me, and praying that my dad didn't randomly decide to call me to 'check in on how I was doing.' For a genius, he really _was_ an idiot to think that I'd forget so easily. But I was also an idiot to assume his intentions so pointedly when I didn't even have all the facts in front of me.

Unfortunately, I didn't get there in time.

* * *

I'd woken up from my 'coma' two weeks ago, and was just being discharged, Membrane in two. There hadn't been any sign of Gaz since I'd woken up, and when I'd asked for her (well, mumbled her name, really), a nurse had simply patted me on the head and left. A few minutes later, Membrane came in the room to let me know that I'd been in a terrible accident and had been placed in a stasis cell until I could recover. After which they'd moved me to the hospital, when I'd shown signs of consciousness. I'd been muttering strange things in my sleep, and he wanted to know what I thought had happened in the past few months.

I stared at him.

And told him I didn't remember anything.

I'd lied through my teeth, through the scrutinazing gaze and the trip-up questions, I played the dumb card. All the while a few of his colleagues were in the background, watching us, making notes on the clipboard. I wondered for a brief, terrifying minute, if I had been experimented on in however long I had _actually_ been out. What other reason could these strangers, this blue-haired man and two women, possibly have to do with _me_? Or was my dad just having them take notes to ensure that I never slipped up, in his reviews later?

I was the picture of confusion and innocence. Some people underestimated my lying abilities, but on the upside, when it came to feigning stupidity, I was the master. Both an advantage and a disadvantage, but one I was currently very thankful for. I heard them all muttering something about PTSD later, discussing outside my door when I'd said I wanted to go back to sleep. About how the stress had probably cracked my brain, washing out anything relating to my sister or the events that had traumatized me. They recommended not to ask my directly about it, as I could have a psychotic episode, so I made the mental note to do just that, should anyone try and bring up my sister.

And so there I waited, at home, wondering where Gaz was and what the hell had happened to Zim. I couldn't just outright _ask_, as that would pretty much blow my cover completely, but I suspected he'd gotten away. After they'd got Gaz on board their stupid ship, GIR had showed up and freed Zim, who at this point seemed to be rooted to the floor in horror. They'd escaped on GIR's back, and I'd been left behind. Not that I'd expected much else. Gaz was gone; what ties did we have left?

But I'd known that all I needed to do to find him again was bide my time. Keep my cover for a while and wait.

Because, eventually, he was going to go after Gaz.

And so in turn, eventually, he was going to come for me.

Who else but Membrane himself would so easily access my father's labs?

I did, however, wonder if he'd heard about my 'accident,' and the unfortunate fact I could remember nothing. He'd make the same assumption I knew even Gaz herself would make; that I'd been brainwashed too. So to prove that I wasn't a spy, I knew I had to come up with something to prove that I still remembered. Something short, that was something not even Membrane could know, so that he wouldn't believe I was setting up a trap for him. Some singular phrase that would, at the very least, stop him short in his tracks long enough to take a second glance.

I'd long since stopped attending school. Obviously, even though Gaz and I had zero friends whatsoever, it would still be pretty risky to send me back. Someone might ask where Gaz had gone, and that could trigger- according to my father's belief- anything between a psychotic episode and a mass chain of epiphany. For now, I was supposedly being homeschooled. Which, in actuality, was just me completing stupid courses over the internet. At this point I'd just stopped studying, and jut went straight to the test. So, in all technicality, I was two semesters ahead of my class, giving me the break I needed in academics to plan and prepare for whenever it was Zim came back.

So I waited.

And eventually, I was rewarded.

It was a particularly uneventful day, followed by an equally disinteresting night. The kind that just made you think that today had been a waste of a day, and wonder if someone else had managed to make it more interesting than you had. I didn't have a job, nor did I plan on getting one. But I had bene out, planning, getting supplies. Grocery shopping. Boring, normal stuff, like any other day of the past seven weeks.

So of course the stifling normalcy had to be broken by the presence of _him_.

I was making dinner. Nothing fancy, just hamburgers. For one. So hamburg_er_, I guess. Anyways, I wasn't even done forming a patty when a very sharp, triangular weapon was pressed against my neck, just millimeters away from slicing it. I resisted a knowing smirk.

"Move, filthy human, and I will kill you," a far too familiar voice growled in my ear. He was entirely serious. And yet despite this blatant threat on my life, I couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved. The waiting was over. Zim was done planning too, then.

"Put your PAK leg, away, Zim." I said, boredly. "We don't have time for this crap if we're going to rescue my sister."

I wasn't so amused, anymore. My sentence was out, though the first wasn't part of the original phrase. I didn't appreciate the weaponry, but I knew better than anyone how deadly they could be. It was comforting for him, I guess. And effective, in the event I struggled or freaked out on him. He really didn't need me alive; he just needed me out of the way, if that.

"How do I know this isn't a trick of your father's?" He hissed, though the wavering resolve was clear in his tone.

I sighed, impatiently. "Her name is Gaz, not C2-F. You gave her a butterfly pendant- which was destroyed, by the way; all of her stuff is gone, though I have no clue what he did with it- twice. It's purpose was to protect Gaz."

"Easy to figure out if the device was found! The foreign and advanced technology would be my signature," he spat, the blade getting closer to my neck. "Try again, Dib-stink."

I became irritated, spinning around to shove him away from me. "Stop waving that thing around like it's a toy! You -_blech_- love my sister. And as disgusting as that is, I told you I didn't really care right now. Keep screwing around and I _will_ care, Zim. Happy now?"

He sat on the floor, where he'd fallen, and nodded. "Yes. I was simply waiting for you to hit me."

I held out my hand to help him up. "The house isn't bugged. I triple check, daily. Morning, noon, and night. I just did a sweep an hour ago."

"As did I," he replied, with a grin, dusting himself off. "So tell me, Dib-stink; how is it you still remember the Almighty Zim and your sister?"

"Never lost my memory," I replied indifferently, starting to put the meat away. There were more important things to do now then worry about dinner. "I only pretended to, when I woke up from . . . whatever they did to me. I did a full sweep of myself, and nothing came up, so I'm assuming they really did just knock me out to heal and evaluate Membrane's son/pet project. I'm sure they prepared to do _something_ to me, but when I turned up blank, where was the need to?"

"I see," Zim said, taking a seat at the table. "Well played, Dib-monkey."

"Thanks," I replied, rinsing my hands off and sitting across from him. "I'm assuming the only reason you're here is to make me a part of your plan to save my sister?"

He grinned, wickedly, "Zim would want nothing to do with you otherwise."

I rolled my eyes. "Haha, but seriously; I've got a quick question."

"And that is?"

"Where the hell have you _been_?" I demanded, shooting him an irritated look. "I've been waiting for like, six weeks! Do you _realize_ what kind of crap could have happened to her in six weeks? A lot, Zim! Were you not thinking about that?"

His hand slammed on the table, jumping to his feet as he glared at me challengingly. "Of course I have! Every day! But I've been monitoring her on the outside as best as was possible. She's alive. Changed, but alive. And so long as she is alive, I fully intend to keep my promise to protect her! Whether she wants to be rescued or not!"

I crossed my arms, leaning back in my chair. "And GIR?"

The silence made my ears ring. Eventually Zim sat back down, crossing his arms and looking away from me.

"He . . . shut down," he muttered. He shook his head, antennae lying flat against his temple. "I still have him, but he's . . . obsolete, I suppose you could say. It will take many months and more parts than I am currently capable of getting my hands on to repair him to a functioning state, let alot be as responsive as his formr self."

I chewed on the inside of my cheeks, looking at my hands. "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing that I have time for now," he mumbled, clearing his throat. "Regardless, I have a plan."

I nodded, picking up on the touchy subject. "I figured. What do you need me to do?"

"We need to see what kind of state she's in, first off." He began. His eyes seemed to darken at the mention of Gaz possibly being in any state besides ideal. "I will therefore need you to infiltrate the lab- use some ruse to get inside, I don't care- and find Gaz. Just find out where they're keeping her, and I will do the rest."

And so, I did.

* * *

"And we're too late." I announced, to nothing and no one.

Or so it seemed.

Really, the game was only playing so the loud audio would drown us out, in case there were any bugs around. We'd been careless the first time, even with the double-bug-sweep, and we didn't intend to be now.

Zim emerged from the shadows, sitting down next to me. "Is she . . . dead?"

I sighed, "She might as well be. According to Membrane and the lab, she's been verbally unresponsive since the second day she got there. Today was the first time she's even looked up from the floor, let alone had a steady conversation with someone."

The news was less than what either of us wanted to hear. And I was the one who'd seen it first-hand. Yeah, sure, she was alive, but was she really? Even if she believed that I didn't remember her, and despite my valiantly attempted inspirational phrases, she hardly seemed to want to bother with anything. Vaguely, I wondered if she was better off dead, at this point.

_Covered in blood._

_Hurting herself._

I shuddered.

"That bad?" Zim questioned mutedly, noticing my involuntary spasm.

"She . . . hurts herself, when she gets mad," I informed him, looking at the floor. "She freaked out so much when she saw me, that by the time I found her, they'd locked her in a tubed, clear cell, and she'd smeared and spit blood all over the place. It . . . wasn't a pretty sight. They make her wear contacts and a wig, too. The whole sight of it was disturbing, to say the least.

"She's changed, Zim. And not for the better. If we take her out- and I'm not saying that I won't!- I don't know if she'll be the same girl that went in, or even be glad that she's out. I'm serious!" Dib snapped, when Zim rolled his eyes at the notion of Gaz being anything but herself. "You didn't see her face, Zim! You didn't hear the load of bullshit that was coming out of her mouth! You know she doesn't even believe she deserves her name anymore? She calls herself C2-F. C. 2. F. An acronym. She doesn't even care what happens to her anymore!"

Zim stood up. "I'm not listening to this anymore. We stick to the plan."

"And what if the plan isn't good for her?" I demanded after him.

He didn't even pause.

"Then that's too bad for her."

I glared after him.

As if feeling my scowl, he turned, giving me a stern, severe look of his own. "Call them, Dib." He ordered. "_Now. _Or I will."

I knew he was about to leave the property. To where, I wasn't even sure. He just showed up at my house, and left, whenever I was home alone and he was positive the area was secure and bug-free.

"They're going to kill her you know!" I barked, in an attempt to get his attention.

Instead, he simply waved his hand, disregarding my fears entirely.

"That's part of the plan, idiotic dirt-monkey!"

* * *

"You realize that your actions back there were the last straw?"

I didn't move. My head hurt. But, really, that was to be expected after bashing your head against your wall for five minutes straight, before someone noticed and made you stop. Somehow, I hadn't made anything bleed. But the ache was verging on a migrane, one that I didn't look forward to and was grateful for all at the same time.

"I can't help you anymore."

I still remained silent.

"And you're not going to make me feel bad about it."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm shaking in my stockings."

For emphasis, I used what little energy I had to lift my feet, wiggling them in the air a moment before letting them fall back to where they were, resting against a flat metal table. They'd begun treating my injuries. So, for obvious reasons, I had to make new ones.

And some other people had recieved them as well.

"Do you realize what I'm saying?"

"I'm going to go back into my subconscious." I said, boredly. "I'll just get out again. You can't make me stay there."

"You don't really understand anything, do you?"

"It's not very high up on my list, I'll admit." I said. "If you're so keen on making me understand, then, by all means, go ahead."

The skin above his goggles bunched up again. "You've gotten my project terminated."

"Aw, poor you. Which one?" I asked, still not finding the least bit of interesting in anything he was saying.

Although I can't admit his answer was entirely unexpected.

"C2-F."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"In layman turns, you."

I closed my eyes. "They're going to let me go, like some rahibiliation animal? Or just lock me away for life?"

"Neither."

My eyes opened.

"You're going to be killed."

I sat up, a look of complete disbelief on my face. "What?"

"You understood me," he said. "I warned you. And you ignored me. Now look what you've done- you've gone and gotten yourself killed."

"They can't do that!" I shouted, angrily. "You can't just get rid of a living, _thinking_ being! It's illegal!"

"There are no laws for this kind of situation." He corrected, bluntly. He turned from me, slamming his uninjured hand against the wall. The other was still fractured, and in an anomtronic cast. Just a little reminder of Zim's handiwork that occasionally had caught my attention in my subconscious state. It _was_ rather shiny, after all. Although to be honest, I couldn't really remember seeing Membrane all that much. Shiny thing or otherwise. Normally, other scientists handled me. I wondered if that was a safety precaution for himself, or something else entirely.

_Or maybe he was just sick of me._

"And what do you mean _they_?" I hissed. "If you're going to kill me, at least have the spine to own up to what you yourself ordered!"

"I never had any attention of killing you," he snapped back. "Are you really stupid enough to believe that after all the years of work I placed into you, most of it before you were even _born_, that I'd be so keen to just scrap you at the slightest _personality_ glitch?"

And I had to admit, his logic was sound. But that still didn't make sense. "So what? You've done stupider things before. And besides, who has more power then you?"

"You truly understand nothing about business." He said, impatiently. "Do you believe I'd have even_ half_ of what I do now if I didn't have money? Fans? Positive publicity? Willing investors?"

"I figured you just ran on your success and popularity," I replied, snidely.

He snorted. "In a way, I do. The more public approval I get, the more money I get to do more good. You've been a controversy from the start. Since I pitched your _idea_ to my investors, they were wary to fund me. So you were actually made out of pocket, as well as the secretive use of my own inventions. In fact, you've been wholly mine since the start. My baby, so to speak."

"Funny, I thought the same thing."

He ignored me. "But you're causing the public too much of an uproar, especially when you're riling up inmates and scaring doctors. As well as harming them."

Quite suddenly, and so unexpectedly gentle that I didn't even have time to jerk away from him, his gloved hand came up to stroke the side of my face. I stared at him, completely mystified at this tender gesture. He let his hand drop and turned away.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

And then he left me, sitting there.

_I'm going to die,_ I realized. This wasn't just some big, meaningless joke anymore.

Tomorrow, I was going to be 'terminated'. Killed.

"_I'm . . . really going to die._"

And Membrane . . . was _sorry_.

* * *

Can this story be over now? :(

I don't know why, it's just, my writing is getting really shitty lately. And it's more difficult to write. To be honest, I think it's because I'm letting all this popularity get to my head. Kind of a cliche notion, but it's true. I checked my stats the other day, and do you guys realize _160_ _people_ have visited just this last chapter? That's amazing for me! But I think it's going to my head so much, I'm more concerned about the fans then my actual story. And, bad as it sounds, the writing is more important.

Not that I don't obviously love you guys. I mean, I really appreciate everything you've all done for me, reviewing and making forums and promoting/shipping this story on various other websites. Even following my youtube account. I really love it.

I can't wait to start working on MHNY4 though, to be honest. Back when I was not a jerk about the hype and I liked my writing. When the words came out of my fingers like it was nothing and I didn't have to make outlines to know what I was doing.

Let's get back to that, yeah?

So I'm sorry for how shitty this story is going to end. Maybe not plot-wise, but, just the writing context will most likely be as crappy as this chapter turned out to be. It's really awful, writer's block. Worse and more frustrating then anything. -_-

Till the next chapter. 3


	35. Finally, The End

I first off I want to sincerely apologize for the work-ethic that I've demonstrated towards the end of the story, inconsistant updates on off-days, less-than satisfactory chapters, etc. The list goes on, as I'm sure the majority of you agree. At any rate, it's been an EXTREMELY long month, and not to badger you with my personal problems, I've recently found out that there is no cure for what I have but waiting until I'm in my twenties and hoping it goes away. Otherwise, I'll be having to take a combination of various pills -like an old person-for the rest of my life. You understand why I've been so out of it. Not to mention all the student-to-teacher meetings and school-things have kept me busy.

Regardless, I want to thank you all for staying with me, waiting it out through the hiatuses, rereading in the chapter-changes and above all, your fabulous reviews/support. Please know that they kept this story alive to become what it is today. Without it, I would have given up a looooong time ago.

(After this, two stories are coming. For more information, please visit my profile.)

**"Road to road  
Bed to bed  
Lover to lover  
And black to red . . ."  
**

_Musical-inspiration for this chapter goes solely to the lovely and ever-beautiful compositions of Florence + The Machine: _Lover to Lover, **Seven Devils**, and Breath of Life.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 35  
"Finally, The End"**

_"Waking to the glare staining the eye_

_Hearing the cry of morning's day_

_Hear we will fail to meet expectations_

_And from salvation we will abstain."_

I looked at the roof. Hours upon hours of listening to my neighbor's quiet mutterings, small nursery rhymes I imagined she thought were prayers. Crazy as these people were, I wouldn't doubt some of their heads were filled with more beauty and content then we could ever have imagined. I found myself wishing I was crazy, now, if I wasn't about to become so already. Maybe I'd already started down the road, and this was the result of some coma-induced fantasy that would only be broken once my subconscious was killed.

_Or, maybe, this is real._

_And I'm about to die._

I couldn't withhold the shudder. It physically pained me, every move, like my body was already dead and simply was waiting for the more permanent solution. People always said I had the complexion of a healthy corpse. As it would seem, I would not be so healthy by the end of today.

Maybe it was better this way. Hadn't I been so willing to kill myself earlier, to protect my brother, and Zim(_God knows where _he_ was hiding)_? Why should I have fancied this to be any different? In fact, it might have actually been easier. On me, anyways. I wouldn't be the one to take my life. I wouldn't be the one who ruined any chance the three of us had at winning against Membrane. He would. He'd always be the murderer.

And really, now that I thought about it, I'd already won against Membrane. I killed his project. I killed the closest thing he had to a daughter. How much had he wasted on me? C2-F, his pet-project, _Gaz_ . . . whatever he wanted to call me, really. I belonged to him as much as anyone could own another living, thinking being. And I'd still managed to find an escape.

I could already feel their sedatives- willingly taken, for once- beginning to sink in. I was promised a humane murder. And with this assured, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to the thoughts people have when they're preparing themselves to die.

_Put down like a dog, and still so much more thorough._

_In these peoples minds, was I anything more than a business venture?_

_What would be waiting for me, if anything, when I died?_

_And would Zim, or my brother even, ever find me there?_

And finally, inevitably, I began to cry as several large men moving in blurred motion- _slowly fading streaks of their former selves remaining where they'd previously been-_ opened the door and began to head towards me.

* * *

(1)". . . _I would like to first and aforemost state that I never wanted this for you. Not for you . . ._"

_I_ c_o_u_ld_n't _mo_v_e_. _B_u_t_ t_ha_t wa_s_ _oka_y.

_Wh_er_e_ w_o_u_ld_ I _g_o i_f_ I c_ou_ld, a_ny_wa_ys?_

. . . _My . . . head . . . **hur**tsssssss_ . . .

"_No matter what you say, you were always like a daughter to me._

_"But it should be said that I never knew how to be a good father, and often find myself understanding why I could never find a woman to assist me in my scientific ventures, to understand the man that I was._

_"And it was spefically because something up their had the good common sense not to let a man like me raise children . . ._"

**_-sigh-_**

". . . _But I was foolish, and did not listen. And for that, you suffered. Your brother suffered. The world suffered. Because I was selfish, and I wanted to be a father . . . No, I didn't. I wanted to be _like_ a father to one of- _the_ most powerful creature mankind had ever come across. Your burdern would be my glory. But, as it would seem, it appears as though my actions were the project of both of our undoings . . ._"

_**-bitter laugh-**_

_. . . **D**on**'t** l_**au**_gh . . . _a_t_ _**me** . . ._

". . . _You never asked for this. I know that. But you were born for this. If I had known this was how things were going to end, I wouldn't have done it. I swear I wouldn't have. And I'm afraid that that promise, and your peaceful, painless death is all I can offer you now. It isn't much, but, there isn't another option, Gaz. If I don't do it, someone else will. You'll be plagued by the city your whole life. You'll never know peace until everyone thinks you've been dealth with . . ."_

_**-pause-**_

". . . _You should've been human. You of all people, a wonderful daughter, a beauty beyond fair human comparison. And Dib, almost a mirror-image of myself, but so much younger. Filled with more morals at his age than I've ever even dreamed of comprehending. He isn't a defect, I know that now. He's his own person, and I shouldn't have pretended otherwise. I shouldn't have abandoned you two . . . Tried to do what I did . . ."_

_. . . Something brushed my hair. Or maybe my face. Couldn't really feel either of 'em . . . _

"_Please believe me-." -**hic**- "When I say that I am sorry. I am truly, deeply, and will forever be sorry, Gazlene."_

Something pinched my arm. Just a little. It didn't hurt.

And then I was dead.

* * *

_(2) It isn't anything like anyone says it is. It's exhausting, to die. Relief isn't immediate. You're still feeling the last bits of your body ebb away, pieces of your soul still stuck in your body. It's a terrible feeling to be in two places at once. Not painful, but it's an awful sensation to be incomplete in two separate places. But it gets better, it really does. Not quickly, but smooth. Slowly. Unhurried._

_Because you're already dead._

_What could you_ possibly _be running around for?_

_I felt like crying. Somewhere, and I'm not sure on which part of myself, I was. I could feel it, but it was as though they were only half-there. Like time had screw up, and didn't understand that a tear was a solid object instead of a phantom feeling. I swiped at my face with hands that felt more like a paw, a solid mass, then a five-fingered, intricate piece. But things need not be so complicated in death._

_Voices started speaking. A small chorus of them, like the chatter of a small party. Neither friendly nor mean, simply existing, speaking, waiting for something. For me to become tangible. And I knew it was only when I was whole that I would be able to identify their intentions by their voice. Friend or foe, what they were saying to one another._

_I couldn't see anything. But images were coming into view, and I thought I saw copper the color of gold._

_And then things froze. I was suspended in a paradox, a warp without color, and only one color, and a taste like cotton balls. Unwhole. Vulernable. Unreal._

_I wanted this to be over._

**_". . . Gaz?"_**

**_"-Get her on her feet . . .!"_**

_The voices paused._

_I felt more phantom sensations. Movement I wasn't doing. And I watched the magnificent color, unseen, start to tarnish. I'd never been more scared. I started struggling. This wasn't right. No, this couldn't be right. I wasn't going to let this be taken from me._

**_"She's not breathing!"_**

**_"SO MAKE HER THEN!"_**

_I started sobbing into my fingerless hands that were mist and rooted myself to the floor. I became more tangible. But still the relief eluded me. I felt pressure on my chest and balls of my feet that did not exist. That were not there. Someone was fighting for me, I realized. For my soul to return, to go back to Hell. To reality._

_Didn't they realize I wanted this to just be done with?_

_How could they do this to me?_

_"Stop," I cried out. And I watched my words, a flourescent, slightly translucent silver, float into the air and dissolved into stars. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen as they shone. I began to understand why there were so many stars. The breath of angels. Of the dead. The black around it the shadows of doubt, attempting to consume the unfailing stars until they exploded, retired, to let someone else fight another day. So beautiful._

_And someone was trying to take it from me._

**_"Don't you DARE die on me, Gaz! Not after this!"_**

_Go awaaaaaaaaaaay . . ._

_It's a funny thing, to watch the universe be ripped quite literally from your hands. All of the secrets, the new understandings. I doubted I'd remember any of it. I was suddenly extremely aware of the ringing in my ears that had once been talking, the secrets of the world still pouring into my ears, to quickly, as if in a ditch effort to warn me of something. To prepare me. I understood all of it, and could remember none of it._

_The world turned to sand, the color grained and soared away. The stars, my breath, shooting away from me. Meteor showers. How fascinating._

**_"DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"_**

_I became aware of a continued, rhythmic pressure on my chest. Something on my mouth._

_And then I was lost to everything._

_. . . So . . . beautiful . . ._

* * *

Not now.

Not NOW!

Dib moved quicker than I'd ever seen him. And all the while Membrane stood off to the side, his jaw smarting red and puffy from my slap to his jaw via my PAK leg when he'd gotten to close to us. He said nothing. Just watched.

Gaz coughed, violently, wheezing something awful. She sounded like those filthy _az-mah-tick_ children when their lungs began to attack them. Or, something like that. My antennae perked, beneath the hair-net of the scientist's uniform we'd stolen. From the laundry room, of course, piled in with the extras. Nobody would notice a thing.

And Membrane wouldn't tell them otherwise.

Gaz looked like hell, to say the least, and nothing like herself. Inspection of her eyes revealed contacts that would dissolve in her eyes, staining it blue, something quickly removed. I'd torn a long, white-haired wig off of her, revealing shaggy, prickly purple hair in desperate need of a trim. I'd ever seen it that long. It touched her shoulders, on the verge of creeping past. But for now it pooled in various places around her head on the floor, an ironic halo of violet. Her wings were nowhere to be found, and I wondered of it.

"Where are they?" I demanded, sitting her up, now breathing, to inspect her back. As I suspected, there was nothing.

"Inverted," Membrane said, without looking at us. He seemed to be watching his tools- scalpels and things- as if pondering using them against us. But we stood well in-between him and his potential 'weapons'- he wouldn't even get close. And he made no move to try anything. "They've folded into her back."

"What did you put in her?" Dib demanded, taking several bags of some fluids after reading the labels and shoving them carefully into the large bag he'd brought. I wondered what they were.

"Poison," he said. "It's painless and quick. You interrupted me though, and pulled it out. If you flush it out of her system, she might wake up in a week. Maybe a month, depending on how weak or strong her immune system is."

Dib nodded, taking several more bags. Even shoving them in the bag I had carried in. He must have had at least 3 dozen by the time I was done, which was kind of impressive. I picked Gaz up, keeping her on her feet and supporting all of her wait. I'd never been more terrified. I'd thought we'd been too late. We'd almost been too late. Dib looked to me.

I nodded.

He sighed.

Then, extracting the weapon from his the back of the pants, hidden by the trench coat, he removed a gun and pointed it at the man who had once been his father. It was no normal gun. It was mine, Irken- and it would leave no traces. As far as the humans were concerned, he'd have had a heart attack. And the body- Gaz's, as far as they were concerned- would have been burned in the incinerator, gone. The poison was gone. Once they didn't find it in his system, they'd know it would have had to have been true.

Membrane still didn't look at us. But the flesh around his goggles crinkled, as if he was trying not to cry. A grown man, reduced to tears. Somehow, I couldn't find it in myself finding joy in it. Just black hatred, an emotion beyond facial expressions. Beyond physical reaction. He was nothing to me anymore. And in my eyes, he was already dead.

"Did you hear it?" He asked. "Any of it?"

"No," Dib said. And I was positive neither of us had any idea what he could've been talking about.

He closed his eyes and nodded, tensing. He opened his mouth, then closed it. His jaw went tight. He seemed as though he was getting ready for something. For his death. His hands balled up into fists, and he bowed his head towards the floor.

"Alright." He said. "Then I won't insult you by saying it now. Go ahead."

Dib took aim. I watched his face strain, clearly trying to take the morals he was so engraved in out of the equation. Trying to forget that, once upon a time, this wasn't his father. That he used to love this man. Even look up to him, once. He'd raised them.

_But no, he hasn't, had he._ I thought, adjusting Gaz closer to me, more aware of the siblings more than I had ever been. _They raised themselves._

Dib cocked the weapon.

_He never had anything to do with them._

I watched his finger slip against something, briefly.

And then he fired. Once.

Membrane jolted and then fell to the side, limp, head lolling as his neck- _along with the rest of his body_- lost control of itself.

I raised my antennae, but said nothing.

"Get out of here with my sister," he ordered, without any trace of the emotions he was feeling. I could hear the strain in his voice though, from his decision. And I wondered what was going through his head. "I don't want to stick around for when he empties his bowels."

I grunted, picking Gaz up under her legs. My face screwed up in disgust at the idea. I agreed wholeheartedly with his decision to leave before that could happen.

And so leave we did.

* * *

_**13 Days Later**_

* * *

When Gaz woke up, she regretted it instantly.

Her body ached, and muscles she didn't even know she had stung and protested at even the _idea_ of moving. Everything felt raw, and she felt somewhat grimy. Especially on the back of her neck, where her brittle, oily hair lay plastered against her skin. Looking around, she realized she had absolutely no idea whatsoever where she was.

An old lady appeared at the door, a tray in hand. Gaz stared at her, trying to figure out whether or not she knew her and if she did, where from, when the woman was met with the sight of her.

She dropped the tray.

And instantly, the woman flickered out of view to reveal a face all too familiar to her.

"_Gaz_!"

Quicker than what Gaz was currently capable of adjusting to, Gaz found herself engulfed in one of the most consuming hugs she'd ever experienced in her life. An unnaturally featured face burried itself into her neck, cheek pressing against cheek, and bodies against each other just as tight, the arms securing her their. It shook and shivered, as if crying, sending those vibrations into her own body.

She'd never felt more . . . connected with someone.

Somehow she managed to find the strength to return the hug, tilting her head down to cry into the shoulder and touch his shoulderblades. He quickly turned his head, kissing her hair, her neck, her cheek- anything he could immediately touch without distangling them from their embrace. It lasted several minutes before he took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled away, to capture her face in his hands. And it was first time Gaz could remember having seen him so happy.

"Zim has missed you." He croaked, his voice cracking embarrassedly. Neither cared to point it out.

"I missed you too, Zim," and she was surprised to find that she had. The shaking, the hole that only two people could fill in her chest was almost gone. Filling, flooding, without her consent. She couldn't have cared less at the moment. "How did you find me?"

The moment was broken in two with terror.

"Your brother found you," he said, stroking her hair, preparing himself for the conversation about to happen. "He only pretended to have lost his memory to gain Membrane's trust, and locate you. How are you feeling?"

She grimaced. "Exhausted. And like I haven't bathed in days."

He flashed a wicked grin. "You can't. You've been unconscious for over two weeks."

"Where are we?"

Zim's antennae rose. "You don't recognize it? Albeit it's been cleaned out, thanks to your father's doing I assume, but I thought you might've at least recognized the _shape_ of the room . . ."

He trailed off, letting her look around and examine the area more thoroughly, rubbing up and down her arms slowly with his hands. Anything to keep his hands on her. To finally stop torturing himself with the idea that he was already too late. That she'd never wake up again. He couldn't help but smirk as her eyes lit up with realization, shock, and maybe just a bit of resentment for not having realized it earlier.

"This is . . . my room," she said, eyes peering around. The walls were cream now, emptied, with nothin but her book shelf, desk, and bed remaining. Like someone intended to use this as a guest room. Probably exactly what her father had intended it to appear as, actually.

Zim nodded, playing with her bristly hair again. She really did need to wash it. But he hardly minded at the moment. "Yes. We've brought you home."

Things began to slowly to form an image for me. And questions began starting to appear in my head.

"Zim," I started, tensely. "Where is Dib? And Membrane?"

He averted his gaze.

She roughed grabbed his face, forcing it back to look at her. "What happened?"

He sighed, lifting his hand to brush hers aside. It fell away easily, considering that sharp movement had actually hurt pretty bad. She was careful not to let it show on her face. Zim rubbed her arms with his hand, massaging the muscles subconsciously as he talked. For obvious reasons, Gaz made no move to protest.

"Membrane has had a stroke," he started, watching her expression carefully as he spoke. Her lips fell apart, staring. He stopped speaking, allowing her to let that sink in.

"I . . . That's not possible," she insisted, confused. "He's a perfectly healthy little bastard, and extremely meticulous about his health. How could he have-?" And then she noticed Zim watching her. He knew something.

And he was waiting on her to decide whether or not she wanted to find out what had _really_ happened.

Gaz pressed her lips together. Zim waited.

She looked down.

"Guess he missed something," she muttered, averting her gaze.

Zim nodded. "It would seem so. He . . . is in a coma, currently. As far as the doctors can tell, he's lost his ability to speak coherently, and may have lost some of his intelligence. He'll have to be supported the rest of his life. Nurses, the whole bit. As soon as he's recovered enough, Dib is going to send him to a private home on the East Coast, where his children can visit him." He ran the tips of his fingers over her face. "Dib is currently taking care of Membrane Industries, for the moment. With adult supervision, of course."

Gaz's brow rose. "What adult? I thought you said Membrane was in a coma."

"Oh, he is," Zim assured her. "I'm speaking about your grandmother, coming all the way from Virginia to ensure her grandchildren are well taken care of."

"Brilliant," she said, sarcastically. "But my grandmother is dead, idiot."

"On your father's side," Zim corrected. "But nobody has heard from your mother's mother in, well, _years_."

"Well that's because she doesn't exist, genius," she scoffed. "And where the hell are you going to get an old-." It clicked. She gave him a look of complete disbelief. "Oh you've got to be kidding me."

"Zim is entirely serious." Zim grinned, and suddenly, the elderly image from before flickered back into view, making kissy faces at her. "Now reward me with a kiss!"

Gaz looked horrified, using her remaining muscles to shove him away from her. She had never been particularly fond of the disgusting wrinkles the elderly adorned, and seeing one attempting to persue her- even if she was well aware who it _really_ was- was a sight she could have done without. She was forever mentally scarred.

He laughed as he fell off the bed, even through the pained grunts when he landed on his PAK. Gaz huffed in irritation, watching him shimmer back into his real form as he practically cried with laughter on the floor. He was so ridiculous.

"You're such a pain in the ass!" She snapped, laying back down on her side, her back to him. "Now shut up or get out, I need to sleep. I'm exhausted, and you killed any energy I might've used to bathe myself. Jerk."

In truth, Gaz really did need sleep. But more than that, she needed to figure this out, and let the new truths of the world sink in. Their world had been fixed. No longer was she going to be in a cage, or have to worry about Membrane. She was free. Dib was free. And Zim was, well, he was posing as her grandmother but he was free too, she guessed. Free to cross-dress, but, whatever. He'd probably done weirder.

Slowly, the bed moved, and Gaz felt herself scooted over and Zim curl around her, gently. She smiled, sighing contently and closing her eyes, feeling his gloves run through her hair. She doubted he'd be doing that if he didn't have gloves on, and she'd hardly have blamed him, but it was still nice nontheless. And she was about to start when she felt something thin pulled over her head and a small object fall into the hollow of her throat before sliding past her collarbone, towards her chest. She opened her eyes, slightly irritated, peeking down.

Gaz could hear the smile in Zim's voice. "I thought you might have wanted that."

She breathed quietly, staring at the little skull looking back at her. Returned to the owner that had forgotten about it. And it occurred to Gaz then, as she held the little thing in her hand, curling her fingers tightly around it and burying her face into Zim's shirt. He didn't at all seemed surprised, more like he'd been waiting for it really, as she began sobbing into his chest, fingers burried in his uniform and blankets alike as she cried. Cried. Something she'd never been able to do before. Now she could. The freedom to cry, and not be worried about dying anymore. Not worry about them dying.

Peace.

This was peace.

And she couldn't have wanted anything else.

* * *

_**Epilogue**_

* * *

It had been decades.

And he'd felt every second of it.

A stroke. They all said it was a stoke, and he knew it wasn't. Some suspected something, but how could you fake a stroke? Surely they were just being paranoid. But he knew. He knew Dib had chose to keep him alive, instead of kill him. And whether it was to spare his life or make him suffer, he accepted this vacation and punishment with the grace and dignity that it befitted.

He deserved this. There was no doubt about it. He was no wicked man, but he'd been acting like he was for years, and had been waiting for the move that would ruin him for years. And what a wonderful move it had been. He deserved to not be able to take care of himself. To have to let others take him around in a wheelchair, wipe him, feed him, clothe him. All the humiliation accostomed with the handicap. He was once great. And now he festered in immobility and disability.

Karma certainly dealt its cards well.

It should be pointed out his children never v_isited_ him. Of course, he'd seen Dib a few times, about a month after he'd been sent away. Because that's really what it was; a clever ploy to keep him out of the way. Remote, unable to speak, without any way of communicating besides dumb gestures. He could never manage the articulation it would take to relay such a plot to his caretakers. Even now, an old man, and dying- _or so they told him, he could scarely trust anyone these day, not that it would matter in the end_- he barely came to terms with it. Bested by the children he'd never been a father to. The inhuman creation of his, his daughter, running free with resentment. Gaz had never come to visit him. He never expected her to.

Dib, as was said, did come to his house. But it was never for pleasurable family conversation. He could barely hold conversation, let alone a pleasurable one. Especially not to his son. Not after everything he'd done. No, Dib had come, kicking the help off the property completely for several hours, to explain what had happened to him. That his was permanent. That he'd never leave here again. That Gaz was fine- _just in spite of you, you filthy son of a bitch_- and Zim was posing as their mother's mom, taking care of them. That Dib had inherited Membrane Industries because someone had found his will-_ that Membrane never actually wrote_- and the business was doing well. That the public thought of Membrane as a crazy, poor old man who'd let his latest project consume him so that when he killed it, burned it, the stress had finally triggered an oncoming heart attack.

He'd nodded throughout the story, the easiest reaction he could do without any assistance. And he never looked at Dib, too ashamed of himself to look the boy in the eye. He no longer wore his starch trench coat and goggles. It was bad for him, or so Dib insisted, and too complicated for the help to put on him every day. He was to wear polos and sweats from now on, as naked to the world as he'd ever been.

"You brought this on yourself," Dib had said, as a parting. And then he'd left. Twenty minutes later, after a severe talking-to about informing Dib if his father looked like he was recovering, the help had returned to their job. The initial awe of caring for the infamous, formerly great Professor Membrane had warn off quickly.

There is no glamour in whiping the crap off of a grown man's ass.

So now Membrane sat, the help making lunch in the kitchen, looking out at the bay. For a prison, it was awfully beautiful. Dib had released a brand of automatic wheel-chairs, that moved only with the need of a flip of the switch. And supposedly, ever the dedicated son, he was also attempting to design a way for the disabled to speak with easy typing capabilities. But at the rate Membrane was dying, he would be long dead before his voice would be heard. It made perfect sense, of course. He hadn't seen Dib in over twenty years now, but even still, the boy would never be stupid enough to give the man he'd ruined a way to tell his story. Not that Membrane would, he was content in serving out his punishment. But the risk still would've been far too great to leave to chance and assumptions.

He was mulling over thoughts of his son, the greatness that he was that surprassed him, the wedding he had not been able to attend between he and his wife some ten years ago when their was a knock on the door.

He grunted, with a funny tone. The help was already heading towards the door, a woman, by the name of Sheila. She had three kids, and had become very fond of Membrane, as he had her. Funny he should find such a consistent woman in his life only when his whole life depended on her.

"Oh, Ms. Membrane! What a wonderful surprise! Please, please, come in. Mr. Membrane, your daughter is here! As is your mother-in-law!"

He grunted, shocked, eyes widened with surprise as he turned his chair around as fast as it would go. And of course, his caretaker was not mistaken. Not that he'd expected her to be. Gaz was a demeanor and face hard to miss.

It was almost uncomfortable, being in the room with someone like her. Membrane suddenly felt every bit of his age, the wrinkles, the sag of worn flesh, as he stared at an unmarked, perfect face that radiated beauty. An old woman with a cane, ancient even by his standards, waddled in, glaring at the man. For a brief moment, he wondered exactly who she was. A twinkle of red in her eyes reminded Membrane of the exact identity of the creature in his home posing as his children's caretaker. And well, really, s/he was a better caretaker to his children than he'd ever proved to be.

"I just finished making tea," Sheila said pleasantly, conversationally. "And I baked a cake yesterday, to celebrate this wonderful weather. What can I get you, Ms. Membrane? Do you need any help, Mrs. . . ?"

"Laciter, dear," the old woman said, stiffly, smiling tightly, eyes crinkling in that charming way only old women can manage. "And no need to serve me, deary. These old bones have served me better than my good-for-nothing son-in-law over here." She said, teasingly gesturing to where Membrane sat. But the man did not miss the severe look he was given when they met eyes. There was no humor in the woman's. "No, dear, my granddaughter and I would like to have a word with my son-in-law over here. Why don't you take a walk, hon'? Maybe take some of this nice food and have yourself a little picnic on the beach. I'll have my granddaughter give a shout when we're done here. Okay?"

Sheila nodded, cutting herself a small slice and taking a mug with her outside, snatching a blanket from the basket on the porch. She understood. She had been here most of the times Dib had come, and before Membrane had worked high-profile jobs in the disabled department. Families like the Membrane's were always very particular about their privacy, and as she intended to keep this well-paying job, she made to move to argue with them. She noticed they made no move to speak as she left.

The door shut behind her.

Membrane sat against the window, patiently. The woman, suddenly having lost any effect of crippling age, strode easily past Membrane, shutting the curtains behind him and putting the blinds down on any of the windows in the room. They seemed to know exactly what they were doing as Gaz locked the door behind her, setting a device down on the table. The woman sat next to her, took the device, and hit the button.

Instantly, the elderly woman was the creature that had broken his wrist so many years ago. That had snarled in his face with murder written on his every feature. Membrane suddenly considered himself suddenly incredibly lucky he was simply disabled now, and not mauled to death. But now, while the murder was not in his face, it was in his eyes. Waiting.

"Membrane." Gaz said, gesturing on slender hand, nails painted a dark crimson. "I trust you remember Zim,"

He nodded, making a strangled noise with some effort. It was the best he could do to substitute for a greeting, or a hello. Zim's lip curled, and an expression he couldn't quite deduce appeared; something between disgust and pure loathing. But contained, somehow. Reeled in, and hiding how much he wished he _had_ killed me. Gaz looked expectantly at Zim from the corner of her eyes, as if awaiting something. Impatiently.

Zim parted his mouth, and Membrane half-expected him to jump out and eat him. But instead, his strange tongue flicked in the air, as if tasting it. He inhaled deeply, taking a deep breath, antennae flicking briefly around. Gaz waited and said nothing. For obvious reasons, neither did Membrane. With finality, he shut his mouth, apparently satisfied with his findings.

"I smell death on you, old man." He announced, the sneer kept from his voice with impecable skill. "You haven't got long. You do realize this?"

He jerked a nod. Old men, especially men once great like him, know well when they're dying. And indeed, Membrane was ready. Waiting for the moment when he'd find out what was beyond this world and the confines of this damaged body.

Gaz nodded in return, gesturing for Zim to leave. He stood, shooting Membrane a warning glare, as if he suspected this whole 'stroke' thing was all just an act. That at any moment he would jump up with a gun in his hands and kill her. The ring that glittered purposefully unnoticed around her left ring finger insinuated why he was so protective of her. Membrane chose not to mention it. Or try to, really. How would he have brought it up?

Zim strode over, and Membrane shrunk back instinctively. The alien paused, a smirk slowly widening on his face before slowly reaching back, towards the unnoticed pouch on his back. Membrane's eyes widened.

"Zim," Gaz snapped, severely.

The movement was quicker than.

Zim reached forward, attaching something to Membrane's head and neck, a single wire joining them. He crossed his arms expectantly.

"_**What- Are- You- Looking- At?**_"

Membrane's eyes started at the robotic voice that vocalized his opinions, his demands. The clipped, toneless, emotionless question that was not a question, but more of a statement.

Zim turned towarsd Gaz, as if for approval. As her face showed no visible signs of disapproval, he left, briefly leaning down to kiss her on the forehead hand resting on her shoulder, before exiting. But not before pointedly opening the curtains to the backyard's porch. Membrane saw him sit on the porch, once again the old woman he pretended to be, his back to them, but obviously unable to hear whatever conversation they were about to have.

"That's not permanent," she warned, pointing to the device. "As far as the public is concerned, those don't work yet. But we're close. They'll come out the day you die. A tragedy; Dib couldn't give his father a voice, but at least he could do it for the world, right?"

"_**Why- Are- You- Telling- Me- This.**_"

She shrugged. "Just thought that you should know. So as not to get your hopes up."

"**Oh- Okay**."

The room remained silent.

She sighed, looking up at the roof. "I've wanted . . . to talk to you . . . for a while, now. Although I can't understand why. You're an awful human being, and I've hated you ever since I saw you last. And tha was over twenty years ago."

She fidgeted.

"I have some questions about me that I haven't ever been abe to answer myself. Dib hasn't, either. Zim tried, but he couldn't figure everything out either. So you're going to answer them. Because you've nothing left to lose. And I know you wouldn't withhold it from me because . . . You said you were sorry."

"_**I- Remember.**_"

"I wanted to ask you about that, too," She added. "About your apology."

"_**What- About- It?**_"

"Did you mean it?"

Membrane nodded. "_**Yes- I- Did.**_"

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Her head angled towards the ground. "I believe you."

He wanted to say "thank you", for some reason, but chose not to. Instead he chose to say nothing, but offer a small smile. By the look on her face, it was grotesque, and he quickly stopped. She turned her face away, resting her chin in her hand. She looked at Zim, the old woman sitting on the porch, tapping the cane impatiently against his thigh. Membrane waited.

"Why did I stop aging?" She demanded abruptly, turning her head towards him one more. "I'm thirty-six and I pass for twenty-five, max, easy."

"_**You- Were- Designed- To- Never- Age.**_" He explained. "_**If- You- Wish- To- Continue- Normally- In- Society- You- Will- Have- To- Use- Your- Husband's- Technology- To- Fake- It.**_"

Gaz frowned, but nodded. "I figured, somehow. Is Dib the same?"

"**Yes**."

She let out a deep breath, relief. She shuddered and nodded, muttering something he couldn't hear. It sounded something along the lines of '_Thank God_', but she continued before he could ask. "What was my original function?"

Membrane's eyebrows twitched. The equivalent of him raising his brow. "_**I- Told- You. To- Serve- The- Human- Race.**_"

"That was it?" She pressed, glaring at him carefully, analyzing his distorted face and the expression it held. "To make the world a better place?"

Membrane waited a second. Gaz was right. He had nothing to lose. "**_Pride. It- Was- A- Matter- Of- Pride. Glory._**" His eyes bore into her. "_**To- Create- A- Creature- Beyond- Compare. To- Own- It. To- Be- Like- A- Father- To- It."**_

She held her hand up, to stop him. "Before you killed me, I heard you. Talking. To me or yourself. About what you did, and why. Was that real? Was that really you, or my brain hallucinating as it shut down, and prepared to die?"

He paused, and she imagined his eyes looked curious.

"_**It- Was- Real.**_"

Gaz closed her eyes, letting her hands rake through her hair at the sides of her hair. She buried her face in her hands, quietly contemplating, without any sense of helplessness. A decision was being made. And his actions thus far would be a part of it.

"My wings." She finally announced, eventually. "Matured, several months ago."

Membrane stilled, completely.

"_**They- Chose- A- Final- Color**_?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

She removed her coat, reaching behind her back. Several clicks, the noise of her shirt being undone, were heard. She pressed her hands to the shirt, keeping it covering her front, but closed her eyes, and dipped her head down, a peaceful expression on her face. At that moment the sun glittered in through the window, warm, inviting, and pale from the morning cloud-overhang. So beautiful. And so terrible at the same time.

Tears sprang to Membrane's face as he watched them unfold, more graceful and delicate than he remembered. Like an early view into death; of what was going to come. Of what was going to come for him soon. Slow, beautiful, inevitable death.

They made eye contact. Gaz's face softened into surprise, eyes widening as his tears reflected in her eyes.

. . . _**So** beautiful_ . . .

. . ._ So_ . . . . _**beautiful** . . ._

"_**Thank- You.**_" He said, over and over again. "_**Thank- You.**_"

And, slowly, a small smile began to appear on her face, the tears in his eyes finally spilling from hers. An Angel, crying. So few would see this. And he was the last to deserve it. But her expression was so pained, rather than awed. Like it hurt to cry. For her to be crying in front of him.

"_You're welcome._"

**~The End~**

* * *

(1) This was hard to write. Membrane's feelings. I originally had him apologizing- in person- to Gaz, but somehow, this seemed more appropriate.

(2) I've never wanted to kill Gaz so badly. Not that I don't love her, I really preferred this ending, but I got really into the death description. Of what comes afterward. Stars being Angel breath, shooting stars the product of a soul returning back to the Earth and all that jazz.

**Gaz's final wing color** is up for interpretation. As Membrane noted, he felt it was a personification of his future, what would meet him after death. I got all religious again there, sorry. But I tried to avoid any specifics as much as possible, to keep everyone in the loop as much as possible, regardless of your beliefs. Avoiding offending people and all that.

So, anyways, it really just depends on you're opinion of Membrane at the end of this story. He's thoroughly and completely sorry, and willing to admit his mistakes and except his punishment. He's dying and been disabled beyond repair for over 20 years of his life. But is that enough to redeem him? Or should he burn for the wrongs he's been doing for his whole life?

Then there is the other factor. Gaz's personality. As a character in IZ, and demonstrated consistantly throoghout the story, she is no saint. But she's not the same person she used to be, with her ability to love and accept, the freedom of making her own path instead of the bitter pressure of her old life. So take that into account to.

_Membrane/Good Guy & Gaz/Good Guy = White Wings_

_Membrane/Bad Guy & Gaz/Bad Guy = Black Wings_

If you believe only one of each, you must then decide which one you find to be most dominant, and let that be your choice. Or maybe just whatever one you find cooler-looking. Personally, I believe her wings would be white, for my own reasons, but as I said, that isn't set in stone. **Let me know your own opinons, arguments for/against, and justifications in the reviews! **I'd love to read how this story affected you!

I want to thank you all for staying with me throughout this monstrosity of this story. And give you a little poem to show my appreciation (I've been in a poem-mood lately).

_"Across terrible oceans, and rivers wide_

_Under clawed roots and the highest of tides_

_Hold my hand, even when it's hard_

_Through the shit and into the stars,_

_Walk with me, friend, into the Devil's den_

_And I will lead you back home again."_

**Sincerest Wishes,**

**~Echo**


End file.
